Robert Cormier - Beyond the Chocolate War

"Jesus, Jerry," he said. "I'm sorry. I should have—"

"Forget it," Jerry said.

"You look terrible. I let you down again. The thing I'm best at."

"No," Jerry said, placing his hand on the Goober's mouth. "It's something I had to do. And I had to do it without you."

They turned and watched Janza's retreating figure, still swaggering as he walked, arms swinging, shoulders moving as if to some unheard bully's music.

"Know what, Goober?"

"What?"

"I'm not going back to Canada next fall."

"You're not?" Feeling miserable, never felt so lousy in his life, worse than last year during the chocolate sale.

"I'm not going to Monument High, either."

"Where are you going, then?" Goober asked, automatically responding. Am I doomed to let Jerry Renault down forever?

"I'm going back to Trinity."

Jerry's words struck Goober like blows.

"That's crazy, Jerry. Why do you want to do something like that?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain." He limped painfully as they walked, had somehow wrenched his knee during the fight without realizing it. His knee felt swollen, twice its size, but he refused to look down. He needed to concentrate on what he must tell Goober. "Just now, Janza was beating me up. But he wasn't winning. I mean, you can get beat up and still not lose. You can look like a loser but don't have to be one." Saw Goober's puzzled expression and felt frustrated because he couldn't make him see what he knew was the truth. "Janza's the loser, Goober. He'll be a loser all his life. He beat me up but he couldn't beat me. . "

"It's not only Emile Janza," the Goober said. "It's the school itself. Brother Leon, who lets the Vigils and guys like Archie Costello get away with murder. Okay, Archie Costello's graduating, but somebody else will take his place. And what about the chocolates, Jerry? There'll be another chocolate sale. And what will you do?"

"Sell them," Jerry said. "I'll sell their chocolates. Every stupid box." The pain of Janza's blows still resounded in his body, and he knew somehow that the answer to everything was in the echo of that pain. And in the fact that Janza had walked away. "They want you to fight, Goober. And you can really lose only if you fight them. That's what the goons want. And guys like Archie Costello. You have to outlast them, that's all."

"Even if they kill you?"

"Even if they kill you."

The Goober kept shaking his head as he walked along beside Jerry. He didn't understand what Jerry was talking about, just as he hadn't understood why Jerry hadn't sold the chocolates last fall. All he knew was that he didn't want to return to Trinity. And if Jerry did, then he'd have to return, as well. And he sure as hell didn't want to do that. Couldn't. From the moment that Jerry's father had called him a few weeks go, everything had gone wrong. Tracking down Emile Janza. The fight in the alley and Janza's kick that had immobilized him, leaving Jerry to face Janza alone. Now this: Jerry returning to Trinity. All Goober wanted was to run. Get on the team at Monument High. Find a girl, maybe. No complications, no fights or talks about fighting. Or winning. Or losing.

"I'm not going back to Trinity," he said stubbornly.

Jerry glanced at his friend, saw the utter misery on his face, as if he were being tortured, and realized suddenly how his decision to return to Trinity was affecting him. He felt stricken with guilt, inflicting guilt on his friend, Goober. And knew instantly what he must do.

"Look, Goober, okay, I'm not going back. Forget what I said. I guess that was just crazy talk."

Goober looked at him guardedly. "You sure?"

Jerry nodded. "I'm sure."

The Goober relaxed visibly, slowed his pace.

"Good, Jerry. For a minute there—"

"I know. It was crazy." But it isn't crazy. I'm going back. To Trinity .

"Nothing to be gained by going back. ."

"Right." Wrong. A lot to be gained but not sure what . His tooth was hurting now, killing him, and he felt blood gathering on his gums, the taste warm and sweet on his tongue. And his knee still hurt. He hurt all over, but a clean hurt.

"Summer's coming. We'll have a great summer. Running, swimming. ." The Goober's voice vibrated with excitement as he thought of good times coming.

Jerry knew what he had to do. Break off with the Goober, end their relationship. Gradually, over the course of the summer, so that when next September came and he returned to Trinity, the Goober wouldn't know about it. Or care. Because by then Jerry would be a stranger. Jerry felt rotten about that, his only friend becoming a stranger.

For a moment Jerry wavered, poised between decisions, overcome by a sadness, drenching him with — what? — loneliness, maybe. Longing for the peace of the Canadian countryside and his uncle and aunt and the Talking Church. Or maybe Monument High with Goober as his friend. Trying out for football, the snap of the ball, calling signals, the pass. . good-bye to that. For a while. He knew somehow he would make his way back to Canada. And especially to the Talking Church. And beyond that to something else. Something he could not even consider now. But first he had to return to Trinity.

"We'll have a great summer," Jerry said, hoping the words did not sound as false to Goober as they sounded to himself.

He ran. Through darkened streets, taking occasional walkers or strollers by surprise, his feet on the pavement keeping time to his beating heart.

He heard the sound when he was a half mile from his home. At first he thought the sound was behind him. Or ahead. And then realized it came from inside him. A sound like something wounded. Or crying. Or maybe sobbing. Him? Yes, him.

This little piggy went to market . .

When he was just a little kid, his mother used to recite the nursery rhyme to him, every night at bedtime. And later when he began running, he would run to the rhythm of songs he knew. And sometimes that old nursery rhyme.

And this little piggy stayed home .

Not wanting to think about Jerry Renault and the way he had betrayed him again tonight, groveling on the sidewalk, clutching his stomach in pain. Not wanting to think that he had done it again. And knowing, too, that Jerry was going back to Trinity. Pretending for Goober's sake that he wasn't, but going. And the Goober not wanting to go. He'd had enough of Trinity. Of being put to the test. Of betrayal. He'd break off from Jerry, a bit at a time this summer, little by little. Because, damn it, he did not want to go back to Trinity. Wouldn't. Couldn't. He didn't want to betray him again.

And he sang silently as he ran:

This little piggy cried wee, wee, wee, all the way home .

Wee, wee, wee. .

For Obie, at this moment, it was not Fair Day or Fear Day but Fool Day.

And Archie Costello was the Fool, being led now across the campus to the parking lot where the Water Game had been installed, Obie surveying the scene with a kind of satisfaction he had never known before. If only he still had Laurie and could share with her this beautiful moment and all the other beautiful moments to come: Archie as the Fool. Archie walked with his head held high, despite the Sign on the back of his white jersey, block letters spelling out KICK ME. The Fool was required to wear the Sign throughout the day and students understood that it was proper to kick the wearer. One of the traditions of Fair Day, a mild enough diversion allowed by the brothers. No one had yet kicked Archie. Ah, but the day was young, barely an hour old.

Obie watched at a discreet distance as Archie arrived at the Water Came. His arrival didn't cause a big stir; too much other activity was going on. The campus was thronged with parents and students and smaller children. Music blared over a loudspeaker, clashing with the tinny sound of a calliope. Squeals of laughter and delight came from the merry-go-round. Clerks dispensed amazing amounts of pizza and submarine sandwiches and soda pop. Booths with all kinds of merchandise, from handmade crafts to home-baked goods, did a thriving business. All profits for the Trinity School Fund. Thus, Archie Costello's drama was only a small part of the entire scene. But an important drama for most of the students at Trinity. Nothing their mothers or fathers or younger brothers or sisters knew about as they participated in the day's activities, but important to the Trinity student body.