A Girl Between (9 page)

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh, MY HAIR’S ON FIRE!!!!!  Tonya got up and
started running around in circles, screaming.  Red grabbed her and threw her on
the ground throwing her jacket over her head, trying to smother the fire.  “Get
that damn jacket off of my face, you idiot!!”  Tonya shrieked. 

“I was just trying to put the fire out.  It worked, didn’t
it?” yelled Red.

“I guess.  Just look at my beautiful hair.  It’s ruined,” she
screeched.

Red retorted, “Hey, it could’ve been worse.  Your clothes
could’ve caught on fire and your face and body could’ve been burned.  Your hair
is nothing.”

While our group’s attention was glued to Tonya, I realized
that my hands were a little sticky from the blood.  I was also feeling
overwhelmed.  I wanted to clean up, but I also felt an urge to get away from
here for few minutes.  This drama with Tonya was freaking me out.  “Will, I
have to go somewhere and clean myself off.  Where are the restrooms out here?”

He looked closely at me. “Are you sure you’re OK?  Why don’t
I go with you?”

“No, no, I’m fine.  I’m not bleeding or anything right now.  I
just want to wash my hands and my forehead off.  If my aunt sees any blood on
me when I get home she’ll get all upset.  I’d just as soon avoid that.  There’s
nothing for you to do.”

“OK, if you’re sure.  The bathroom is pretty close.  Remember
that squat building near the football bleachers?  Well, the restrooms are in
the back.”

“OK, be back in just a few,” I answered.

I started toward the building.  Crap, there was actually
more than one building back here and it was pretty dark.  You’d think there
would be more lights near the restrooms.  I don’t think Will realized how
little I knew about this school.  I proceeded around to the back of one of the
buildings.  There was nothing here.  This actually looked like an equipment
shed.  I’m starting to feel really spooked out.  My senses were screaming that
something wasn’t right, so I turned to go in another direction.  I still wasn’t
right.

I could hear a whrrrrring sound getting closer.  It was a
motorized wheelchair coming around the side of the building.  Was that Bully
Boy?  I couldn’t see his face yet because of the darkness.  What was he doing
here?  I really didn’t want to talk to him so I looked around for a way to elude
him and realized that there’s no way around him from here.  In one direction was
a cement abutment about 2-3 feet high, followed by a steep downward slope.  On
the other side, there was a dense hedge.  Then, coming at me is Bully, staring
at me like he wanted to swallow me whole.  I went over to the hedge to see if I
could push through but I found a chain link fence right behind it. He was
almost there.

I finally spoke, “What do you want?”

He spoke in a guttural tone, “I haaate yoooouu!”

I realized that the stroke had affected his ability to speak
clearly, but I knew what he was saying.

I stood up outside of the bushes and took a step toward him.
 I didn’t want to show him that I was scared.  “What have I ever done to you Bul
. . . uh, Jimmy?”

Youuuuu diiiiid thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis,”he lifted his left hand
and gestured toward himself.  He sounded drunk but I knew it was from the
stroke.

“Why would I hurt you Jimmy?  I hardly know you.  It just
happened.  It was a stroke. People can’t make other people get strokes,” I
reasoned.  Somehow I didn’t think he could be reasoned with.

I heard a snap.  Suddenly a knife blade appeared in his left
hand. “Yoooooooooou witchhhhhhh.  Yooooooooooouu liieeee!”  His wheelchair
whirred right at me. 

I grabbed the only thing I could to defend myself, a large prickly
branch of hemlock from the hedge.  As he came closer, I danced around and rubbed
the sticky branch in his eyes. I could see the knife stabbing at my right hand,
so I shifted around and continued jabbing at him as fast as I could.  Fortunately,
his arm movement was slow.  His big wheelchair was pinning me in though.  I was
stuck between the big wheels.  He was even trying to stand up so he could
overpower me.  I started screaming.  I could feel a burning jab in my right
hand.  What was I going to do?  My left hand was trying to push him back.  It
wasn’t working.

Abruptly, Bully sat down.  I could see him struggling to get
up but he seemed stuck in the chair.  In fact, his arms and hands looked like
they were glued to the arms of the wheelchair.  His knife was still in his
right hand, but his hand wasn’t moving.  It was time for me to get away from
here!  As I tried to squeeze by him, I looked up and saw Mercy and Will several
yards away striding toward us.  They weren’t looking at me.  They were staring
intently at Bully.

He noticed them too and he appeared distraught.  He was
wiggling his body like crazy but he seemed to be stuck.  The wheelchair spun
around and faced the abutment that trapped me earlier.  At that point, I looked
up and saw both Mercy and Will.  They stopped walking.  Will was holding onto the
top of his head but he seemed to be concentrating on Bully.  Mercy was just
staring at Bully.  His wheelchair inched forward toward the abutment.  He continued
to try and get up but to no avail.  His wheelchair came up to the edge of the
abutment and stopped.  Bully was shaking his head back
and
forth and trying to say something, but it came out like a low
groan.  Now,
his wheelchair was actually lifting off of the ground.  What was going on? 

“Will, Mercy, what are you guys doing?”

Will glanced over at me and barely shook his head.  He was
still holding his right hand over his forehead with his eyes closed.  Bully’s
wheelchair was still rising.  He was almost on top of the abutment.  It was so
surreal.  In the background, I could hear the students’ frantic cheering and
the band pounding away.

Bully managed to let out a squeal when his chair balanced on
top of the abutment.  The wheelchair slowly turned downward.  After a little
pause, the chair descended into the darkness.  Bully tried to scream but it
came out like an odd gurgling sound.  I ran over to watch.  His wheelchair careened
down the steep bumpy hill.  I could see Bully’s head jouncing along with the
movement of the chair.  Suddenly, it hit something hard; probably the asphalt
parking lot below the school.  CLANK . . . CLANK . . . CLANK . . . What was
that?  It was too dark to see very well.  Oh, my God!  The chair must’ve hit a
parking curb at the edge of the parking lot while going at a high rate of
speed.  That’s what caused the wheelchair to flip over and over and over
.

After Bully’s horrific descent, we all took off.  We knew
that Bully Boy would get some help because we could hear shouts and screams
from the parking lot down below.  I should be upset about what happened to him but,
I’m not.  He enjoyed tormenting the innocent and it turned back on him.  I
would call it Karma.

I touched the knife wound on my hand.  Yikes, it’s bloody!  I
rifled around in my purse until I found a packet of Kleenex in there and held
it against my thumb.  Again, things were happening to ME.  It was so
frightening.  What was up with Bully?  What was Mercy talking about when she
said that I had REAL power?  Whatever she meant, I didn’t want any part of it.  I
wanna be my old self, moving through life in a fog of ignorance.  It was easier
and a whole lot safer.  Although, that’s not working out for me, is it?

Will suggested that we head home.  When we got into his car
he took out his first aid kit and washed off my cut with an antiseptic wipe and
wrapped it in some gauze.  Then, he pulled out of the parking lot.

For that entire time, I hardly said a word.  The initial
shock of what happened had worn off, but I still felt numb.  My mind was
repeating the whole Bully scenario with his stabbing knife and then his
wheelchair bumping down the hill.  One big question was really nagging at me. 
I finally turned to Will and asked him, “How did Bully get up and over the wall
in his wheelchair?”

“I was waiting for you to ask me that,” he sighed.

“Well”, I retorted, “are you going to tell me?”

“I don’t know if I can,” he remarked, looking at me
anxiously.

“Please try.” I asked, glaring at him.

He didn’t say anything for a minute while he was gathering
his thoughts.  Then, he took a deep breath and pulled over to the side of the
road before he continued, “I’ll explain it as best as I can.  You’ll have to be
patient, so just listen.”  His look implied that I wasn’t very patient!

Will turned and faced me before he started.  “One day when I
was a little kid, I was sitting in my bedroom bored out of my mind.  I was
eight years old at the time and I was sent to my room for the day as a
punishment for something.  I can’t remember what it was.  Anyway, I started
playing around.  I’d always been interested in magic shows and so I was trying
some magic trick I saw on television.  I was trying to move an object with my
mind.  To my amazement, I was able to move a penny about a quarter inch on the
surface of my desk by concentrating my mind on pushing that penny.”

I knew I was being impatient but I couldn’t help myself.  “One-quarter
inch?  Are you sure it wasn’t just your imagination?  And what does this have
to do with tonight anyway?”

Will glared at me. “Tess, remember, patience!  I know you’ve
had a rough night but you have to just listen.  I’m trying to explain it so
that you understand.  Otherwise, it won’t make sense to you.”

“Sorry, Will. I knew it was weird for you too.” I answered.  I
decided to calm down and listen.

Suddenly, we could hear sirens approaching from the
distance.  It sounded like the police, but no, it was an ambulance.  It flew
down the street, flashing lights and blasting sirens.  Will said grimly, “It’s
probably going to get Jimmy.”

My anxiety crept up a notch but I tried to ignore it. “So
anyway, Will, continue with what you were telling me about moving the penny.”

He continued, “Even as a little kid, I knew not to tell
anyone about it because they’d think I was crazy.  However, I did continue to
practice in my room whenever I got a chance and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. 
For example, just last week I was able to lift my Physics book a foot off my
desk and move it across the room onto the book shelf.”

“Will, are you telling me that you lifted Bully Boy up in
his wheelchair?” I asked skeptically.

He replied, “Not exactly.  I couldn’t do that, at least not
alone.”

I was taken aback. “What do you mean by not alone?”

“I’m pretty sure I did it with Mercy.  I believe that in our
charged frame of mind, our adrenalin kicked in and helped us to lift him and
keep him up.  You know how you hear about people who are able to lift heavy
objects like cars when they are in an extreme state of stress such as feeling
imminent danger or fear?  That’s due to excessive bursts of adrenalin.  I
believe that Mercy and I put our telekinetic powers together which increased
its effectiveness, plus we were both pumped up with adrenalin.  I knew I was
terrified that Bully was going to stab you and I’m sure Mercy felt the same
way.  I didn’t even think about what to do at the time.  I simply reacted.  The
adrenalin may also have enhanced our telekinetic abilities.  I developed a
splitting headache which is just beginning to go away.”  Will started rubbing
his forehead.

“Will, that sounds crazy, but I guess it all makes sense.  It’s
as good an explanation as any.  If I hadn’t seen Bully’s wheelchair lift up
like that, I would never have guessed it could be done.  Do you have any idea what
Mercy thinks?”

Will thought for a minute and then answered, “When we first
turned the corner and saw what was going on, there was no way we could get
there in time to stop Bully from hurting you.  Mercy then looked at me and said
something about how WE would have to get Bully away from you immediately.  There
was no time to wonder what she meant.  We just did it.” 

Abruptly Will looked down at my hand.  “By the way, how much
is your hand bleeding?  Let me look at it.”

I lifted it up.  Will took my hand and unwrapped the gauze. 
You could see there was still some bleeding. “Look, my mom is a nurse.  Let’s
go to my house first and have her clean you up.  We’ll have to think of something
to tell her on the way.  There’s also your head,” he commented as he peered
down at my forehead.  “It’s stopped bleeding but it has to be washed up again
and it needs a band aid.  If you’re fixed up with no blood showing by the time
you get home, your aunt won’t be as freaked out.”

“Thanks for your help.  Will. I have to say, you’re a much
nicer guy than I originally thought.”

He smirked, “Oh, really?  What did you think of me?”

I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and answered, “I
thought you were a wise guy. Now, I think that you’re a nice wise guy.”

He just looked at me. I was waiting for a sarcastic remark
but I think he was at a loss for words, not a common occurrence around Will.  On
closer inspection, I think I saw him blush! He is really a cute guy when he
looks embarrassed like that.  I’ll have to kiss him more often.