Long Past Stopping (5 page)

I headed toward the trampoline. I was still hoping he would change his mind, but my mind tricks were not on par with Mom's. Kyle had learned that my you-just-won-a-prize voice meant something bad was going to happen. I looked back to see if he was coming, but he just stood there. I could put it off for now. But as I did every day, I climbed the tree so that I could visualize the jump. I wasn't totally positive I could make it.

When I got as far out on the branch as seemed safe, I saw Kyle standing by the pile of mattresses just waiting. Oh well, I had to do it. Better now than in front of all the older kids. I ran it through my head a few times and jumped. The branch was a good fifteen feet from the ground, and maybe twelve feet from the trampoline. I just barely made it to the outside edge, and as a result didn't get the bounce I had hoped for, and ended up landing on the other side with one leg going through the springs. Luckily I didn't get hurt, but I had barely extricated myself when I noticed Kyle up in the tree ready to jump.

“Wait! Don't do it!” I yelled. “You're not going to make it!”

“You just made it.” That was the end of the silent treatment, but I was too concerned with him crashing to the ground from fifteen feet to even notice it.

“Just hold on a second,” I said, lugging a mattress around to the tree side just in case he didn't make it. Then I took another mattress, and positioned it to cover the springs on the far side.

“Okay,” I yelled, and he jumped.

He actually made it farther than I had, flying right over the mattresses and landing with a thud on the ground. I was horrified. I stood there stunned, imagining all the “how could you do this to your six-year-old brother” looks I was going to get on the way to the hospital, and in the waiting room, and for the rest of my life. I snapped out of it as I saw Kyle running as fast as he could back to the tree for another jump.

“Jesus Christ. Just wait one minute.” I needed to reposition the cushions again, but Kyle was high on adrenaline and couldn't wait. This time he had a perfect jump and managed to land on the mattress.

“Your turn,” he said.

“Oh, no more silent treatment?” I taunted him.

“Just don't ever fucking do that to me again,” he answered.

“I won't.”

We only got a few more jumps in before the older kids saw what we were doing and took over the trampoline. I had put so much work into setting this up, and they just bullied us out of there. I called them a bunch of assholes, and as always, it only made them laugh. We watched them from a distance for a while before Kyle said, “You want to go throw rocks at cars?”

Man, it was good to have Kyle back.

A decrepit barbed-wire fence sort of defined the perimeter of the school's three-acre lot, with long stretches of nothing between our property and the next one over. There was a tacit agreement that the Mexican family next door could use anything on our property if we could use their go-carts, so the fence didn't mean anything anyway. The entrance to the school, however, had a four-foot cinder-block wall with an opening for the driveway. It was the perfect setup for throwing rocks at cars. For one thing no one could see us, and for another, we could never see them, making our chances of hitting anything very slim.

Kyle and I walked around collecting rocks and then went and stood behind the wall. We just waited till we could hear a car come by, and when the car sounded close enough we would throw our rocks in the
general direction of the sound, and I, being maybe an inch or so over four feet, would hunch back down behind the wall and listen for an impact. In six months, this technique had not resulted in one hit, and often there could be up to five of us throwing rocks at the same time. The other kids were busy jumping out of the tree though, so today it was just Kyle and me.

There was hardly any traffic. We must have waited a good ten minutes before we heard our first car coming down the road. We threw our rocks, and I peeked over the cinder blocks to see a Pacer drive by, completely oblivious that it was a target. About ten minutes later, we heard another car coming and when it sounded about right, we let loose on it. Again I peeked over the wall and saw a lowered '60s Chevy pickup driving by with a rear window sandblasted with an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Then I heard the sound of glass shattering, and the truck screeched to a stop.

“Shit, shit, shit. Let's get the fuck out of here,” I stammered at Kyle, and we both just started running. We hid for a moment behind the schoolhouse to figure out our next move, but we could hear the truck backing up quick, and it was turning into the driveway.

“Shit, where should we go?” I asked.

“Let's hide under our trailer,” Kyle suggested.

“No. That's the first place they'll look.”

“Okay. Ed's trailer, then. There's an open panel we can get in through,” Kyle suggested. Ed had one of those big ones that are actually two trailers put together.

We had no time. The guy had already pulled into the driveway and was getting out of the truck. Luckily, the schoolhouse was between him and Ed's trailer, so we ran as fast as we could. Kyle lifted up the access panel and we scrambled underneath. We just lay there, catching our breath, and eventually crawled over to the other side where there was a crack of light we could peek out of. All I could see was a pair of cowboy boots walking around, and then a pair of sneakers approaching them. Then the cowboy boots walked away, and the sneakers went to Carol's trailer. Ed stooped down to look underneath it. Then he went and looked in the clubhouse. Losing sight of him, I crawled back over to the other side and saw him talking to the kids who were jumping off the tree. He started heading in our direction, and I was sure he would find us, but he just walked up the stairs and went inside.

An hour or so went by before a cop car pulled into the driveway. Ed went to meet him and, together, they walked around checking every hid
ing place they could find. When we saw them coming toward us, we crawled all the way down to the end of the trailer as quietly as we could. A square of blinding light appeared as the cop lifted up the access panel and shined his flashlight around.

“You guys down here?”

We held our breath and waited.

“Okay, but you can't hide forever. You're going to have to come out sometime,” he said, letting the door drop closed.

He and Ed went upstairs. We could hear them talking but couldn't really make anything out. We watched and waited. Neither of us had really eaten anything for breakfast, and Kyle kept whispering about how hungry he was. I told him we had to wait until it was safe, and then I'd go look for something. Long after everyone went home and the staff had all turned off their lights, I decided to see if I could break into the cafeteria or sneak into Carol's trailer to get some food. I crawled over to the door and there were two brown paper bags waiting outside.

“Here, Kyle, I found some food,” I said, crawling back in. We ate our baloney sandwiches and drank our apple juice, but decided that opening the potato chips might be too loud. It was creepy down there at night, and I kept feeling things crawl over me. Eventually, we fell asleep.

 

H
EY. WAKE UP,”
Kyle was whispering. “That cop is back.”

I was wide awake immediately and peeked out of the crack.

“Shit. He's coming straight over here.” As I was saying this, the panel opened, and a dark silhouette crouched down and yelled.

“Okay, boys. It's time to come out now. I know you're down there and I really don't want to have to crawl in there after you. My wife just cleaned my uniform and she won't be happy if I come home all covered in dirt.”

Kyle and I held our breath and hoped he would go away.

“Or I can just wait here. I don't have a whole lot else to do, so you guys think about it for a minute, and I'll be right here when you've made your decision,” he said, closing the panel.

We stayed quiet for a while, but it was pretty clear he wasn't going anywhere, so after a few minutes we decided to give up.

“Welcome back, boys. You sleep well down there? Wow, you fellas look terrible.”

I glanced at Kyle. He was covered in dirt from head to toe, and his eyes were completely bloodshot. I could only assume that I didn't look any better.

“Well, how 'bout we go upstairs and have a chat with Ed.” Without a word we followed him into the trailer. Ed was smiling when we came in, which kind of bothered me. No matter what was going on he was always smiling.

“Okay, why don't you guys have a seat?” the cop said, pointing to a couple of chairs. “So the bad news is that what you guys did was absolutely stupid, reckless, and against the law. Not only did you break a window, but you endangered a life, and aside from the guilt you would feel from injuring or even killing someone, a crime like that could get you locked up for a long time. Can you boys read?” he asked.

Kyle shook his head, but I nodded.

“Okay, I want you to read this to your brother,” he said, handing me a yellow piece of paper.

“J&B auto body, 3965 Rodeo Road, Santa…”

He interrupted me. “Just read that number down at the bottom.”

“Six hundred dollars.”

“That number is how much the window that you broke cost. Do you understand that six hundred dollars is a lot of money?”

We both nodded vigorously. It seemed like a hell of a lot of money for a piece of glass, but the Virgin of Guadalupe had looked pretty good before our rocks smashed it.

“It's enough money to bring felony charges against you if that's what he wanted to do. The good news is that he has decided not to press charges. He felt that if you were still under the trailer in the morning that it was probably because you guys are well aware that what you did was wrong, and he seemed to think that was punishment enough. I just want you to know that this was his decision, not mine, so if I have to come out here again for something like this, I will not be so lenient. Do you understand?”

Again we nodded enthusiastically.

“Good. This isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card so much as a lesson, and I hope you boys have learned something from all this.”

Again we nodded, and I even said, “Thank you, sir. We promise it won't happen again.”

“Very good,” he said, turning to leave.

Getting off the couch, Ed said, “Officer, here is a check for the window.”

“I can't take it. I don't know what's wrong with that guy, but he doesn't want money either. Do you know how lucky you guys are?” he said to us, and walked out.

Ed went and shut the door. “You guys think you're slick, but everyone saw you crawl in there. Even the guy whose window you broke saw you running in this direction. He could have come after you right then, but he wanted to see what you would do. That cop is right. You guys are lucky. Now go over to Carol's and clean yourselves up.”

 

N
OT LONG AFTER THAT
we were informed that we would be taking a trip to California by way of Taos, and there would be a going-away party on Wednesday night followed by roller-skating. We were both sad to go, but it had come to a point where the cops were stopping by about once a week. We had stopped throwing rocks—that's for sure—but even though we were usually not responsible for these visits, they were almost always blamed on us. The party was in Ed's trailer, and Kyle and I sat at either end of the table. Next to me was Denis, the physics teacher. Ed was down at the other end by Kyle, and there were about ten other staff and students. There weren't a whole lot of parties at the school, but when they did happen, the adults usually shared a few bottles of wine with their meal. I don't know what possessed me, but when I had finished my milk, I just reached out and poured myself a glass of Denis's wine. Denis gave Ed a look, and Ed just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. I drank it quickly and poured another glass, and still no one stopped me, though everyone seemed to be waiting to see what would happen. The next thing I knew, the bottle was back in my hand and I just went ahead and finished it off without even bothering to pour it into the milk glass. Conversation had stopped at this point, and everyone seemed to be staring at me.

“Wow, I feel pretty good. Hey, Matt, you should try this. It's good,” I said. Matt looked at Ed, who shook his head and turned his attention back to me. I had never spoken to a group this big, but I really felt good, and the words just started coming out.

“I just want to tell everyone I've really had a great time here, and I will definitely miss this place,” I said, turning toward Carol. “Thank you for putting up with us, and especially our mom,” which made everyone laugh. I continued down the table. “And Ed, thanks for starting this place and being such a good guy.”

“Why, you're welcome, Oran. We'll miss you, too.”

“And Matt…shit, I'll be back in a second,” I said, climbing off the chair. I suddenly felt very sick, and somehow made it to the bathroom before puking all over Ed's shag carpet. The bathroom was only fifteen
feet from the living room, but getting back wasn't so easy, as I kept walking into the walls. I climbed back up in the chair, and Denis asked me whether I was okay.

“I'm great,” I answered.

“So, Oran,” Ed said from across the table. “You know that what we're doing here is a new educational process, so I'm curious to hear—since you seem to be so talkative and honest tonight—what you might have learned while you've been here?”

My answer came fast. “I learned how to say, ‘fucking cocksucker bitch asshole motherfucking shithead dick face.'”

Everyone started laughing. I was the center of attention, and since it felt like they were laughing with, rather than at, me, I kept going with it.

“I also learned that Matt looks at those magazines so people don't find out he's a fag, and that it's a lot harder to steal candy and throw rocks at cars without my favorite brother, Kyle, over there.” This was also met with laughter and even a little applause.