journey.txt

Journey

The boy trips pulling the bike off the road. He slides down the hill, his calf
exploding as it crashes into a piece of cactus. Tightening his grip on the
bike frame he slows his decent. The car's engine quickly fades and is replaced
by a cacophony of crickets.

Jason Black tripped the boy the day they met and had picked on him ever since.
Earlier this week the boy had answered a question in class about Germany
incorrectly. Jason, who sat behind him, whispered in his ear "my family's from
Germany fucker, maybe after I kick your ass after school you'll study harder."
Fear and nausea filled the rest of the day. After school they chased him down
and threw him into a dumpster behind the school. He could still smell the
rotting fruit his face had landed in.

Yesterday, after returning from the bathroom, Jason whispered in his ear "you
go to the bathroom so much you'd think you lived there. Maybe you should!"
That afternoon Jason and his friends locked him in the bathroom with the
lights out. An hour later the janitor released him from the urine-stinking
prison and sent him home.

He climbs back up the hill to the edge of the road. The sun is quickly falling
into the ocean, darkening the red-orange sky. His brother always left for
school early and the boy always got home late so the first time he would see
his brother each day was around sunset, lifting weights in the garage with the
door open to let the light in. His brother was very strong, it was one of the
reasons the MArines wanted him. The boy had never been strong.

Two nights ago three Marines came to their home. He saw them approaching
through the living room window. When the doorbell rang he went to his room and
listened. A man spoke for a while and his mother cried. He climbed into the
bed, covered his head, and tried to sleep.

Later that night his father came in and told him his brother wasn't coming
home. The boy went back to sleep.

When he got home yesterday his brother's door was open and a big green box
stenciled "PVT. C. HARRIS" sat in the middle of the room. While his mother was
out shopping he looked through the box. Inside were clothes, CDs, and books.
All were dusty. Hearing his mother returning he grabbed one of the books,
closed the box, and ran back to his room.

That night he read the thin dogeared book. Sand fell into his bed as he turned
the pages, it scraped him throughout the night. The book was a journal of
sorts written by an ancient Roman emperor. He wrote that it was important to
only care about the things you had control over and to act as though whatever
you were doing now was the last thing you would ever do.

The boy continues walking along the road. Periodically a car will come by and
when it does he steps off the road, moves his bike to make sure it isn't in
the way, and waits for the car to pass. He instinctively avoids dangers. His
afterschool actions are almost ritual now:

He sits sideways in the alcove, no part of his body shows in the aisle. He
holds his backpack on his chest. He closes his eyes and prays the librarian
will not find him and make him leave. He hopes to wait them out. Even when
locked, the library doors opened from the inside. He hears the shuffling steps
and knows he cannot stay.

He shudders as a breeze comes up. He can smell the salt ocean damp in the air.
He has no jacket since he expected to be home by now. He hadn't planned on
Jason Black having stolen his bike's chain.

The boy and his friends would often spend their Saturdays at the liquor store
playing Beat Down 2. It was a video game where two characters beat each other
up; each character had their own special moves. They would stand around
playing, putting their quarters up on the glass to show they were in line.
Sometimes Jason Black would show up with his friends. If he ended up playing
against Jason he would play badly. He knew he could beat Jason, but never did.
He knew it would be just another reason for Jason and his friends to beat him
up.

He can just see the lights of the sign for "Oceanview Terraces," the
neighborhood he lives in. He touches his face where the punch had landed, and
quickly draws his hand back as the sting comes up. He had decided to give
Jason a reason...

"Get out of the way, I'm playing next." The boy looked to his right and saw
Jason Black step up to the machine and put his quarter in the slot. "Hey shit
head, ready to get your ass handed to you?" He hadn't seen him come in, he
must have been too focused on beating his previous opponent. He felt his
insides twist. Jason chose the Roman soldier character. The boy thought about
what the emperor had said.

With a spinning body slam the Brazilian wrestler finished off the centurion. A
look of shock and a wave of anger flashed over Jason Black's face. "We'll be
waiting for you outside," he said. "How about I just come out now and save
everyone some time," said the boy.

The boy saw the car approaching, but continued walking. He wouldn't move off
the road this time. As the car came over the rise its headlights blinded the
boy and he closed his eyes, still walking. His vision fills with white star
bursts on the black of his eyelids, just like those he saw when Jason's punch
landed. And just like when Jason's punch landed, the boy smiles.