"Doesn't sound like I'd want to stay with that uncle too long," Ethan said.
"Didn't have much choice. I was living with my uncle so's I wouldn't think about my brother."
"What was your uncle like?"
"He was tall, not much meat on him, but his tongue was something fierce. The man was particular in his ways and particular in his drink and he didn't much care for someone comin' to stay with him. I did what he tolt me just so's I'd stay out of his way, so he wouldn't hardly notice I was there. But that's a hard way to go about your life, steppin' around, pretendin' that you don't exist. It can make someone start to believe it."
Ethan found an agreeable cave in the tree trunk, settled in and took out his pack of smokes. He hit the pack against his palm and offered the cigarette to Bradley, then lit his own.
Bradley let the smoke drift from his teeth as he spoke.
"Thanks, man."
"Where'd you go to school?"
"I started at Grover Middle School, down there in Lubbock. Was in the eighth grade, for the second time, but I went to school like anybody else, ditched class like anybody else, smoked behind the gym like anybody else. Didn't have many friends though." Bradley chewed on his fingernail to assist his memories. He spoke in a pizzicato manner, plucking up a new string of thought, random at best, leaving the last one to reverberate in the space behind him as he stuttered on. "My brother, his name was Cale, short for Caleb. He had loads of friends, man. Everyone in town knew him on account he was the best pitcher around. He was going to the minors."
"We got a team here. You play?"
"I'm no good at baseball myself, or much anything for that matter. But my brother Cale was real good at everything. He would go out back the house and toss the ball with me, no matter if his friends were calling or a girl wanted to visit. He would stay out back and toss. He was good to me." Bradley stopped chewing his nail and let the cigarette dangle off his lower lip.
"Oh yeah?" Ethan squinted.
"No one treated me like that in Lubbock. Couple of kids lent me smokes behind the gym when I didn't have none. You had to be sly though. Mr. Neebalm, that was the principle, he'd scan for us. He was a tubby fellow, like a walrus, bigger'n his desk, with a thin black mustache half way between his nose and his lip. No one paid much mind to him; you just had to swallow the smoke when he came by. Kids always cracked jokes behind his back, but he was a good guy, never did nothin' to me personally.
"Sometimes, when I ran out of smokes and nobody'd give me one, I'd sneak into my uncle's drawer. He always kept a pack of Reds tucked beside a blue handkerchief and a Colt 45. There was a nice silver Zippo in there; I couldn't help using it, but I always snuck it back." Bradley rustled in his pocket and held up the Zippo. "See?" Ethan grabbed it from him. "My uncle had his initials carved into it, see there, and a black widow spider on the cap."
"Fancy," Ethan commented, handing it back.
"Could I bum another cig off ya? I'm a little short." Ethan threw him the pack. Bradley lit one then tucked the Zippo in his pants again.
"One time I forgot to put the lighter back. It was rainin' and I dropped it in my coat and plum forgot about it, until my uncle reminded me. He was liquored up and I'd gone to the high school to watch the basketball game. When I walked in, he slammed me against the wall. Then he locked me in my room a couple days."
"How long?"
"Don't really know how long. That's when he burned the spider in my belly. Used the Widow to do it." Bradley lifted his shirt and revealed a gnarled patch of skin whose scars ran in a spiral like the limbs of a cream arachnid.
"When he let me out, and I went back to school. No one noticed I'd been gone. No one behind the gym asked where I went. And there was something started itchin' down deep. Started in the scar and grew over my belly. I couldn't control it. This itch got my heart beating funny and my mind fixing on everything that'd gone wrong. I knew I had to make it go away. Couldn't swallow it back down; it would just get out again."
"Ever get rid of it""
"Yeah."
"Whatdya do? To make it go away?"
"I waited 'til my uncle left and I went to his drawer and I took this Widow lighter back. That's when I saw the Colt lying next to it. He usually kept his gun in the closet, but he must've moved it. Like a warning to me or something.
"My hand wrapped around the barrel like it was meant to be there. Next thing I knew, I stuffed it in my jeans. I decided I didn't never want to let go of it. Ever have a feeling like that?"
"I dunno. Don't think so."
"Sound's messed up, but I liked it there, against my skin, you know? It made the itch go away. I kept hold of that gun all night and brought it with me to school the next day. When I went behind the gym and asked for a smoke, they all said they didn't have none, but when I lifted my shirt and showed 'em what I brought, they's all willing to give me one for a peak at it."
Bradley flicked his second cigarette into the wind and began pacing around the tree. Ethan watched him pace. "How'd they catch you?"
"Someone must've ratted cuz I was sittin' in class and this Mexican girl opened the door and passed a note to the teacher. He walked over, told me to collect my things and get to the office.
"Neebalm called me in and shut the door and locked it. He put down the blinds so no one could see in from the hall. I remember him fiddlin' with his collar. His neck was gettin' red. There wasn't much to do but watch him 'til he figured what to say. Then he asked strait out if I'd brought a gun to his school. I shook my head. Flat out denied it. Kept right on denyin' it nearly ten minutes. He said they jimmied my locker and hadn't found nothin' yet. I told him they hadn't found nothin' yet cuz there's nothin' to find; there ain't no gun!"
"That's what you gotta say." Ethan started chewing on the grass.
"But he kept on with me, sayin' my friends had seen it. I said they weren't my friends. But he kept pesterin' until I had enough of his talk. That itch started right up. I pulled the Colt from my jeans, unlocked the safety, and told him 'shut the fuck up.'" Bradley laughed to himself. "And man he did. Lips tighter than a fish's ass. His eyes looked real scared and that made me scared. He asked me to tell him where I'd gotten it. Told him my uncle, then shut my mouth."
"No use tellin' more than that," Ethan mumbled.
"He asked why I brung it. I said I didn't know. Just wanted to show folks that I could, I guess. So's they'd notice me. All I wanted was to get out of there and make like none of this ever happened. I told Neebalm to unlock the door and let me go, but he said he couldn't do that. I pointed right at his gut and told him again, but he wouldn't budge."
"Why not?"
"He said, 'these children are mine when they're inside these walls,' somethin' like that. Point is, he wasn't about to let me loose with his kids. Said I'd have to go through him first. I could swear he was fixin' to cry, his eyes watered something awful. He said he knew about the accident and how my brother was dead, but that didn't mean I could act any different'n anyone else. He said he cared about me as much as any of 'em but I couldn't go outside that office long's I had the gun in my hand."
"You believe him? That he cared about you?" Ethan squinted in the sun.
"Maybe. But I told him I couldn't give it up. So he got on the phone and called the school buses. Then he called the sheriff."
Bradley paced towards Ethan and pointed at him. "Up 'til then, only three people on earth knew what has happenin' inside that room. Me, him, and the snitch. But then he goes and announces it to the whole goddamn world! I remember his secretary kept knockin' on the door. That rattled me, made the itch spread to my chest and up my neck. He kept yellin' at her to go away, but anyone could hear in his voice he was scared as all shit. I couldn't think too strait, on account of the itch. I just wanted everyone to forget the whole thing, let me get home. I kept tellin' him to move out of my way, but he put his lard ass across that door an' said I'd have to shoot him to get out. He wasn't gonna let me near 'his kids.' He kept on callin' them 'his kids.' I didn't want to hurt no one, you know, but I didn't want to give up the gun neither. It was the only thing making me feel like I was anything at all."
Ethan watched the clouds move across the sun and the shadows leak off the bark of the trees.
"I remember hearin' the buses roll up and then crowds outside and teachers calling roll. I couldn't set my mind on what to do, so I asked Mr. Neebalm if he had any smokes. His hands were shakin' so bad he could barely open the drawer. I pulled out the pack for him and poured the smokes on the desk. Lined 'em up one by one. 'I know I can't smoke in school,' I told him, 'specially not in the principle's office, but I've already brought in a gun so I reckon this can't be much worse.' Then I smoked 'em, one by one, running down the entire row while I tried to get my mind strait what to do.
"But see, the phone kept ringin'. Calls every minute! Parents askin' why they's kids was home early. Every minute seemed like somethin' was ringin' so loud I couldn't hear myself think. I could hear dogs barkin' outside the window. I hadn't eaten since mornin' and you could see through the blinds that the sun was goin' down. The red lights of the cop cars were spinnin' through the blinds. I went over and peaked out the window. Saw the line of cars and dogs. They was holding shotguns in their hands.
"I tried to get strait how I was gonna get out of this mess, but nothin' was comin' to me and I kept itchin' my neck with the tip of the Colt. Nothin' was coming to me 'cept how to end it all. So I put the gun to my head." Bradley raised his hand in the shape of a pistol and held it to his temple. Ethan laughed.
"It ain't funny, man. Mr. Neebalm stood up. He came right over to me and told me to put down the gun. Said I shouldn't shoot myself cuz no one had been hurt and I was only fourteen. I still had my whole life in front of me. Looking back, I guess that's true."
"Yeah, right," Ethan spat out the grass.
"Then the phone rang again. It kept ringin' while the two of us stood there, stiff as stone, he looking at me and me looking at the gun. But the phone kept ringin' and I couldn't take that sound much more. Neebalm crouched down real slow and crept to his desk, tellin' me it'd be okay. When he picked up that phone I ran to the wall to yank out the jack. But Neebalm cried, 'Stop!' He put the phone out to me. 'Someone wants to talk to you.'"
"Who was it?"
"When I put the phone to my ear, the voice on the other end said his name was Officer Hollis. Then he asked if I had any demands. I told him I didn't know what those were and he said a demand meant if there was anythin' I wanted for holdin' my principle hostage. I said there wunt no reason, 'cept that he called me in his office and tried to take away my gun. All I want's for everyone to forget about me, like they done before. But the sheriff said they couldn't do that. So I asked him 'bout the cars and the dogs and if he could make them go away. 'I can't,' he says. So I dropped the phone. 'Then I'll go away.'"
Bradley put the imaginary gun back to head and kept it there, trying to pull the trigger, squeezing his eyes. Ethan watched him keep that imaginary gun to head, as if waiting to hear a shot.
"Then I heard a voice, real faint across the room. Mr. Neebalm looked strait at me and asked if there was anyone I wanted to talk to. 'Just give me the gun,' he said, 'and we can arrange for them to meet you. Right outside.'" Slowly, Bradly let the gun come off head.
"I told him I want to talk to my brother. Neebalm crawled under the desk and picked up the phone and kept talkin' to the officer. I didn't bother much with what they said. I went back to the row of smokes."
"How long were you in there?"
"Don't know how long, but it was pitch dark out cept for the police lights. The row of smokes were long gone. It was quiet a spell then the phone rung, and Mr. Neebalm snatched it up. He talked; he hung up. Then he leaned across the desk.
"I remember, he looked at me dead in the eyes. They was red and bloodshot. He said that all I got to do is put the gun down and walk outside. 'Will Caleb be there?' I asked him. 'He'll be there,' he told me. 'He's outside now.'
"'How do you know?'
"'Sherriff said so.'
"A big grin came to my face as I ran to the window and peeked out the blinds. My skin was gettin' hot and my head was so tired I couldn't barely see. But even with the red lights blindin' me, I couldn't make out nothin' that resembled my brother. I searched all over. Just cops and dogs and crowds. 'He's out there?' I asked.
"'Right behind the white van,' he said.
"I could see the white van. I turned back to him with the gun. Man, did Neebalm back to the wall faster than a pig to a trough. And I'll tell you, for the first time inside that room my mind went crystal clear." Bradley raised the imaginary gun to Ethan, crouched against the tree. Ethan watched the tip of Bradley's finger hold steady on his face. He could hear his own heart pumping and his fingers begin to tremble.
"I watched him squirm against the wall a while, followin' him with the gun. Then my arm went stiff and I closed my eyes, and, IÉ." Bradley started to laugh as he dropped his hand and took out the Widow lighter. He began lighting and extinguishing it over and over again.
"I didn't pull no trigger. I put the gun down, let it fall off my fingers to the floor. Think I collapsed too. Don't really remember. Neebalm sidestepped the wall 'til he made it to the door, twisted the knob and slipped out. There was a piss stain runnin' down the leg of his pants. I just lay there on the floor. Looking at the barrel of that gun, wishin' Caleb really was out there in the white van. Wishin' he could've come in and got me, 'stead of Officer Hollis. Then they came in and handcuffed me and took me here."
Ethan yanked up another stalk of grass to twirl in his teeth, looking at the barbed wire run the fence line to the open fields beyond, yellow fields where they go to work on Wednesdays. The wind rose up and the leaves flipped on the olive branches. An officer walked by, making sure the boys weren't up to trouble. Both Bradley and Ethan nodded to him.
"Sometimes I can't believe I would've shot him."
© 2002 Carolyn Anderson Miller, all rights reserved
appears here by permission
Image The principal's Office created by and © K.L.Storer, all rights reserved
appears here by permission
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