Ken Douglas - Nightwitch

“ Hurry,” Arty said, “he can’t bother us once we get inside.” He took her by the elbow and started pushing her at a faster pace toward the safety of the school doors. The last thing he wanted was trouble with Brad.

He wanted to look behind to see if Brad had sped up, but he continued on, like he hadn’t heard the bully behind. Sometimes that worked with his father, especially if he’d been drinking. But sometimes it only made him madder, and those were the times when he really lit into him.

“ K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Brad repeated, too loud to be ignored, but they were almost to the steps and Arty decided to risk a glance behind to see how close he was. Turning his head, he saw that Brad was too far to catch them before they were inside the school and he felt a surge of warm relief. Now he could only hope that someone else would irritate Brad enough during the school day to take his mind off of whatever mischief he had planned for him.

“ Look!” Carolina grabbed onto Arty’s arm and pointed. “There!” Arty faced back forward, looked up and sighed, then stopped. In front of them, barring their way up the concrete steps, were Brad’s shadows, Ray Harpine and Steve Kerr, both dressed in Levi’s and white tee shirts, the standard uniform of Brad’s small gang. Only Brad wore the black leather mantel of leadership.

Arty’s first impulse was to run, but he was too fat and too slow and besides he would never leave Carolina alone. Even if the bullies would never hurt a girl, he couldn’t leave her. He quivered, but he stood his ground. They might tease him, but they would never thump him right in front of the school. That was too close to trouble, even for Brad.

“ First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Arty pushing a baby carriage.”

“ Funny, Brad, real funny,” Arty said. Arty hated to be embarrassed and embarrassing him was something Brad was good at, just like his father. He wished he knew how to fight. Sometimes he would stretch out in bed and dream that he was slim, tough and not afraid of anyone.

“ Got a girlfriend, Arty?” Ray came down the steps with Steve following behind. Both boys cast long early morning shadows and the sun reflecting off their pale white faces gave them a ghostly pallor. Steve cracked a knuckle and Ray farted.

“ Yeah, got a girlfriend?” Steve echoed. The bullies laughed.

But Arty wasn’t laughing. He wanted to clench his fists against his fear, but was afraid the bullies would take that as a sign of aggression. “I’m not hearing anything funny. Sorry guys.” He tried to sound calm, but couldn’t quite pull it off. He could never fool his bully of a father either.

“ He’s not hearing anything funny, guys,” Brad said through a false smile and hooded eyes. He was wearing his camouflaged duck hunting cap and he tilted it up.

Ray moved behind him, but Arty didn’t want to take his eyes off Brad. He reminded him of a zoo snake stuck in a glass cage.

“ Shoot any furry little animals lately, Brad?” Carolina said. Brad went hunting with his father every weekend.

“ What’s it to ya,” Brad said.

“ Must make you feel like a big man,” Carolina said.

“ We don’t just do it for fun. We eat what we kill,” Brad said, defending himself.

“ Most people buy their meat at the store,” she said.

“ Yeah, and most people eat meat.”

“ I don’t eat it because I like animals,” she said.

“ Yeah, and me and my dad go hunting because we like animals, too. We like to eat ’em. So there.”

Ray got down on his hands and knees behind Arty. Arty suspected something was wrong, because Brad’s fake smile turned into a real one and he seemed to be looking beyond them, but before he could turn his head to find out what was going on, Brad let out a loud laugh and said, “Hey, Arty guess what?”

“ What?” Arty answered without thinking.

“ This!” Brad planted a hand on Arty’s chest and shoved him backward. Arty’s knees met something and buckled. He screamed as he fell over the boy on his hands and knees behind him, throwing his arms up and sending Carolina’s books flying.

“ That’s not funny, Brad,” Carolina said. Her face went red, but she was wise enough to say no more.

“ Yes it is,” Brad laughed. “It’s as funny as you not eating meat.” He pretended to brush some lint off his leather jacket, turned and said, “Come on, guys.” Ray got up off the ground, also laughing and, along with Steve Kerr, followed Brad up the steps and into the school, leaving Arty humiliated among a throng of smiling and snickering students.

“ Let me help you up,” Carolina said.

“ I can do it.” He rolled from his back onto his stomach, pushed himself up into a crouch, then stood and brushed himself off as Carolina was picking up the books.

“ Are you okay?” Arty saw real concern in her eyes and appreciated it.

“ Boy, I hate them.” He reached into his hip pocket, took out a plastic comb and ran it through his hair with two quick strokes, then put it back.

“ Me, too.” She tucked her books under her arm.

“ Let’s go.” He led off, with her following, up the steps and down the hall, toward their classroom.

“ I’m gonna start taking karate lessons,” he said, turning toward her.

“ What? Where?”

“ Parks and Recreation are starting karate lessons in Tampico. Four o’clock on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

“ How are you going to get there?” She brushed hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand.

“ Bus. It leaves from school at three-twenty.” He stopped walking and faced her. “I’m tired of those guys pushing me around. I wanna be able to fight back.”

“ How much does it cost?”

“ Parks and Recreation don’t charge. It’s free.”

“ Can I come, too?”

“ Sure,” he said with a wide smile lighting up his face. “I was hoping you would. I’d hate to go there all by myself.”

“ I can hardly wait.” She seemed excited.

“ There’s just one small problem.”

“ What?”

“ My parents would never let me do something like that, so I had to lie to them.”

“ What did you tell them?”

“ I told them I was going there to take Spanish lessons, so I guess I gotta learn that, too.”

“ Excellent,” she said. “I’ll tell my mom the same thing. We’ll buy some tapes and study on Tuesdays and Thursdays when we don’t have karate lessons. No one will ever know.”

“ My parents will never let me study with a girl. I’ll have to lie about that, too.”

“ So, lie,” she said.

“ I will,” he smiled.

Sarah opened the top drawer of her teacher’s desk without looking at the class. She took out a framed photograph, glanced at the clock, then lowered her eyes back to the photograph. She looked so happy, he did too. They were staring out of the photograph, arm in arm, both in bathing suits, her hair wet, her smile real-now she wondered about his.

She flexed her fingers and bit herself on the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears. Another quick glance at the clock told her she had a minute left. She wasn’t smiling or frowning as she pulled the picture out from the glass frame and dumped it in the wastebasket.

The bell rang.

She stood, faced the flag and put her hand over her heart.

“ I pledge allegiance to the flag,” the children’s voices rang out, but for the first time since she’d begun her teaching career she wasn’t listening. Her thoughts were about last night and early this morning and the suitcase in the trunk of her car.

He ran.

He’d left her.

He had every right to be afraid. Lord knows she’d been afraid. But she didn’t run when she had the chance. She couldn’t, not when John Coffee had that knife at his throat. His life was as precious to her as her own.