Verse (7 page)

Chapter 26

Shop fronts move by my window. People too, in brightly colored ski jackets and old worn faded ones. It’s drizzling.

It’s weird to just show up without calling, but I don’t know. I can’t think of a single other person I want to see. She’s the only thing that will make me feel better.

What’s it matter? I’m just like everybody else and nothing is real and nothing matters.

I pull the cord for her stop and get up, the latex seat creaking.

I walk down the aisle and grab a handrail as the bus pulls to a stop, jarring me forward, its brakes screeching.

I get off.

The brakes screech again as they’re released and the bus roars away.

She’s not even going to be home. She’s not going to want to see me.

I walk down the street, looking at all the houses, high on the hill. I walk the steps up to her house and up on her deck. I shouldn’t be here.

I can’t knock. What am I doing here?

I sit down on her steps. I shouldn’t be here, what am I doing here? I should just go.

The door opens behind me. I turn.

Faye.

“Manuel? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hi, Faye.”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh, um—” I stand up. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute…”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know—”

“What’s the matter? Come in.”

I follow her inside.

I shut the door behind me and she leads me up the stairs into her room and I shut that door behind me.

She sits on the bed and I sit next to her.

She says, “Don’t worry about what your mom did, everybody understands.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m sorry to—”

“It’s okay, it’s fine.”

“I just didn’t know who else to talk to. I don’t even have any friends.”

“What about Erwin and Sydney?”

“I don’t know, it’s like they don’t even, I don’t know…”

“I’m you’re friend.”

“You are?”

“I’m glad you came to see me, Manuel.”

“You are?

“What is it? What’s the matter?”

“It’s just… It’s so silly… But it’s just…”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think that’s true.”

She puts her hands on mine. “I promise. Just tell me, what is it?”

I look at her. She’s looking at me.

I lean forward and kiss her. I pull back and look at her. Was that okay? Oh no, oh man, not again.

She leans toward me and kisses me.

I kiss her back and put my tongue in her mouth, feel her teeth and her tongue, pushing back against mine, the roof of her mouth, the back of her teeth, back inside my mouth, switch our noses’ places, back inside her mouth.

I put my hands on her stomach and I want to move them higher, can I do that? I move them up, so I’m just feeling the edges of her breasts and she doesn’t say anything, keeps kissing me, so I move my hands higher, all over her breasts.

My penis is straining against my pants and I adjust myself and she pulls her shirt over her head. Holy shit, I put my hands back on her breasts and over the top of her bra cups and inside. And we’re kissing again and she rubs the front of my pants, rubbing my penis, kind of uncomfortable, not what I imagined.

She leans back and I follow, sort of crawling up her and I slidepush my hand inside her pants, the waistband is tight, through her pubic hair, the top of it, the clitoris, right? I think. I unbutton her pants and unzip and reach into her panties, feel it, find the hole, my middle finger inside.

She’s undoing the button on my pants and I take my shirt off and reach around her, and she sits up a little so I can grab the clasp with both hands and come on, come on, what the fuck, come on, it comes undone and she puts her arms up so I can take it off her. I’m back at her breasts, sucking on one. Uckh, like a baby? Is this weird? This is normal right? I’ve seen it in the movies, I look up at her and her eyes are closed and she’s smiling, she likes it, I guess it’s okay.

I move from the right to the left one, don’t want to be unbalanced and then kiss her on the mouth again, push down my undies, am I too small? am I normal? and pull down her panties and she kicks them the rest of the way off and we’re both completely naked.

I look down at her vagina, it’s different, odder than I imagined it would be. I push my penis against it, but it kind of slides away. I put my finger in again and use the other hand to push my penis in and ugh, this is really happening. This is really happening.

She exhales sharply and I push the rest of the way in and, she hisses and I spasm, I’m shaking, holy shit, holy shit. That’s it, that’s an orgasm.

It keeps going, I keep shaking.

How long was that?

I pull back, there’s blood and semen all over on us and on the sheet and I reach down and touch it and there’s red and white mixture running down my fingers.

Oh God what did I do?

Can’t look at her, can’t look at her eyes.

My head is buzzing.

I stand off her and I grab my underpants and put them on and then my pants and shirt and I open the door and go.

Through her house, out the front door, down the steps, down the street.

This can’t be happening, this can’t be real. This is fake, this isn’t possible. I can’t fail. I can’t succumb to temptation, that’s not possible. The messiah doesn’t fail. The messiah doesn’t lose. This can’t be—

I’m not the messiah.

Chapter 27

It’s over.

That’s it.

It’s done.

My feet must be walking on their own down the street.

Just a quiet day on a suburban street. Overcast. How is that possible? How is the world still normal?

Where am I going? I can’t go home. I can’t go home.

Okay.

Okay.

Take a breath. Take a breath. Deep breaths.

All right.

Bus stop.

The bus stop.

I stop.

It all feels soiled and gross. I want to clean up, I need a bathroom. I need to pee.

I have to go home. I have to go home.

Chapter 28

I’m not the messiah.

Can’t sleep.

Am I?

Please just let me sleep.

God?

Ugh.

What should I do?

I failed.

It’s over.

Are you there?

I’m talking to myself.

It was just a dream.

I was only ever talking to myself.

I roll over and look at the clock.

4:07

Might as well get up. I’ll never sleep now.

I throw off the cover and go take a shower.

I eat breakfast and watch television and go to school.

I find my group at lunch and get a tray of food and take a seat. Faye isn’t with them, thank God.

Erwin is saying, “You know what I think is so cool about all this? It’s like
Star Wars
or
The Lord of the Rings
or something, but real.”

Jesus.

They’re all nodding in agreement.

Who are these idiots? How did I become friends with them?

The only friend I’ve ever had who was as smart as me, who was interesting to talk to, was Iris. And I screwed that up.

What he’s saying sounds so ridiculous.

It always did.

I say, “It’s not true.”

Erwin looks at me startled. “What?”

“Life isn’t a movie. I’m not a hero.”

Erwin blushes, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have magical powers.”

Sydney says, “You’ll perform miracles.”

“No I won’t. I can’t. I don’t know how.”

He says, “God will help you.”

“No he won’t.”

Erwin says, “Everyone feels doubt. Even the messiah. It’s okay.”

I say, “I’m not looking for a pep talk. There’s nothing that any of you can say that will change the truth.”

Sydney says, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not the messiah,” I say.

I stand up and walk out of the cafeteria. One of them will clean up my tray.

Chapter 29

Mrs. Lee hands me a note when I come into her class for first period.

Come to Mr. Pierson’s office.

The principal? What?

I show it to Mrs. Lee and she nods and I head for the administrative offices. I pass by Washington’s office and knock on the door at the end of the hall.

“Come in.”

I go inside, Pierson is seated at his desk, an expensive-looking computer on top of it. I’ve seen him before, but never spoken to him. Washington’s boss. He’s as pale as the dean is dark.

He says, “Manuel Kadur?”

I nod.

“I’m Terrence Pierson, I don’t think we’ve spoken before. Thanks for coming, take a seat.”

I close the door and sit.

“Dean Washington has brought me up to speed with what’s been going on. I’d like to have a conference with you and your mom tonight. I’ve already called her and she’s agreed.”

“Wait, what about?”

“There’s been an accusation made by another student.”

“What kind of an accusation?”

“We’ll discuss that tonight.”

“Surely you can tell me, you don’t need to bring my mother into it. I’m seventeen.”

“Yes, and unlike some of our seniors, that makes you still a minor legally.”

“Yes it does.”

He looks at me for a moment, considers, and says, “All right, I don’t like the idea of you feeling anxious all day, so I’ll say that you’re not in trouble, not unless the claims of this student get verified.”

“Why isn’t the dean handling this?”

“There’s a conflict of interest.”

“A conflict of interest?”

Sydney.

Oh man.

Sydney.

Pierson says, “We are going to be investigating the situation. Students will be interviewed. If we find evidence of any wrongdoing, well, we’ll have to discuss whether the consequences will merely be academic or if we’ll be requesting criminal charges pressed.”

My stomach drops. “Criminal charges? He’s made criminal accusations against me?”

“These accusations are very serious. Until the investigation is through, the school board has ruled that you may no longer practice your religion or whatever it is on school campus.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Yes, we can. This situation isn’t just about you any more, it could have consequences for the entire school. If the PTA gets involved, things could end up like in some of the other districts, where no one is allowed to talk about religion at all or wear a cross or a yarmulke to school. Also, you could get expelled. Or go to jail.”

“You think I care about any of that?”

“Yes I do. And I’m asking you to go along with this, don’t talk about this with your friends, keep the situation from escalating, not just for the school’s sake, but for your and your friends’ sake. To keep it from becoming a witch hunt. Let’s just try to get this situation cleared up, don’t stir up any more controversy, hopefully these accusations are unfounded and this will all go away.”

“But I didn’t stir up any controversy, whoever’s lying about me did.”

He says, “I’ll see you tonight.”

I get up and leave.

I walk down the hall toward the entrance.

They can’t tell me what to do.

I don’t care if I am the messiah or not, this is censorship.

I go to the payphone and open the white pages. I rifle through them, finally finding the number for the
Times
, and call.

I listen to the menu. I don’t hear the correct option, so I hit

0

A woman answers, “How may I direct your call? Are you looking to renew your subscription or start a new one?”

“Do you have a number to call if I have a story?”

“Um… let me ask about that.”

She transfers me. Another woman answers and I say, “Yes, I’ve a started a new religion at my school and my school is trying to stop us from practicing it. I mean, Grant High is religiously censoring us.”

“You’ve started a new religion? What’s the name of it?”

“Uh, it doesn’t really have a name. I mean, it’s not really a religion, but it’s a religious group, sort of. But we’re being religiously censored.”

“Okay, how many members of this religion are there?”

“I don’t know, around twenty?”

“Twenty?”

“Yeah, around twenty.”

“And you’re the what, guru?”

“Messiah.”

“Messiah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Manuel. Manuel Kadur. Manuel, spelled like Man-well, Kadur, K-A-D-U-R.”

“Okay. And now the faculty’s censoring you.”

“Yeah.”

“All right. What’s your phone number, Manuel?” She asks a couple more questions before saying, “Okay, I’ll run it up the flagpole,” and we say goodbye.

Chapter 30

Mom and I meet Pierson and Ms. Yang, a woman from the school board, out in front of the school. They lead us into a conference room, turning on the buzzing fluorescent light. We take seats around the table.

“Thanks for coming,” Yang says.

“It’s no problem,” Mom says.

Pierson says to me, “I understand that Louis, Mr. Washington has talked to you a couple of times about what you’ve been doing.”

“Yeah,” I say.

Yang says, “Well it seems this situation has been escalating for years. Since your freshman year apparently. And you’ve been warned about this kind of behavior, but you’ve continued on as if there are no consequences to your actions. I’ve been looking over your file and we’ve been receiving complaints about your behavior and your friends’ behavior for years now. I think Mr. Washington turned a blind eye for various reasons and…” she looks at Pierson.

He nods, “Yeah, I suppose it’s my fault as much as anyone’s for taking such a hands-off approach. But Charlene is right, this behavior needs to stop now. Because things have gotten completely out of hand.” He looks at Mom. “As I told Manuel this morning, a student has come to us and made some accusations about what Manuel and his friends have been doing.”

I’m smiling. “Has anyone else said that what he said was true?”

Pierson says, “No, but we want you to understand that this is just the latest incident among many.”

Mom says, “What accusations? Who said this?”

“It doesn’t matter who said it.”

“It certainly does matter. You can’t just say someone accused Manuel of something and suddenly he’s in trouble.”

I look at Mom, surprised.

Pierson says, “He’s not in trouble. No one’s in trouble. We just need you to stop, Manuel.”

I say, “Stop what?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“If you can’t even define it, how can you censor it?”

“This isn’t censorship.”

“Then what is it?”

“We’re stopping a bad situation from escalating.”
“What bad situation?”

Mom says loudly, angrily, “Just cut the crap, okay? What did they say he did?”

Yang sighs and says, “The student alleges that Manuel’s been abusing him or her and several other students.”

Mom says, “Abusing? What kind of abuse?”

“Verbal, physical, and sexual.”

My face goes cold.

Mom gasps, “Sexual?”

Pierson nods. “The student has alleged that Manuel has brainwashed and manipulated students into performing sexual favors for you.”

Faye.

Not Sydney.

Faye.

It wasn’t like that. Was it? Did she say that?

Just confess.

I say, “Who—” My mouth is dry and my throat. I swallow. “Who’s saying this?”

“I cannot disclose the identity of the student.”

Is that what that— what it was?

They’re looking at me.

I look guilty.

I am guilty.

But—

I say, “What kind of physical abuse?”

“It’s been alleged that you’ve been beating the students. For disobeying your orders.”

What? Faye said that? Why would she say that? And—

Sydney.

Not Faye.

Sydney.

I was right. Faye didn’t say anything. It was Sydney.

I try to hide my relief.

They’re looking at me.

I say, “That’s completely ridiculous.” Don’t be relieved, be angry. “How dare you take this even remotely seriously!”

Mom says, “That’s right.”

Yang says, “We’re obligated, correctly I believe, to take any accusation of this nature seriously. Of course Manuel is presumed innocent until proven guilty, but we’re still going to investigate.”

Pierson says, “Manuel, as I told you this morning, the school board has made a decision to forbid you from practicing your religion or whatever it is during school hours or on school premises. Also, I’m personally putting in a call to each of your,” he makes the quotes sign with his fingers, “‘followers’’ parents and letting them know what the situation is. I suspect you won’t have many students who will continue to be allowed to spend time with you after school or on the weekends.”

Mom says, “I’ve already forbidden that.”

“Okay. Good. Nobody wanted it to come to this, but there it is.”

All of them are looking at me.

Waiting for me to say something.

But what can I say?