The Sun is Burning

My house sat several hundred feet from the highway that connected Reardan to the city of Spokane. There was a barrier of trees that surrounded the house but in the middle of the night, when it was quiet and I didn’t have a fan running on high speed a foot away from my face, you could hear the traffic go by.
I could stand at the end of the driveway and see the tallest building in the small town’s skyline, grain elevators, and before that week I was glad I was not living in their shadow. However my mood towards living in town had changed and I would give everything to be able to live next door to Ceci or at least within quick walking distance.
I spent most of my days and early evenings in Reardan until Saturday afternoon, when my mom asked—more like demanded—to meet Ceci and her mother.
“I don’t mind. I think it’s very proper, actually.”
We sat next to each other in front of her locker with our legs pulled in as to not block the hallway and with a set of hands interlocked.
“I just know my parents are going to say something embarrassing.”
“That’s their job,” Ceci replied as she lifted our arms up. “To keep us safe and to show off old baby pictures of us in washtubs and sunglasses.”
“So yours did that?”
“Yep, to my first boyfriend. I always thought it was a little too early. It was cute but a little disturbing. I don’t suppose you have a bathtub pic that I should be ready for?”
“I have one of me in a homemade ‘ET’ costume where I’m accidentally flipping people off with a glowing finger.”
“Will I get to see it?”
“Not if I can help.it.”
“Aww,” Ceci replied as she reached into a bag we brought back form the store and picked up a Twix bar. “In hindsight, I should have gotten Reese’s Pieces.”
She reached out and lightly tapped my nose with her finger.
“Cute,” I replied.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“You’re cuter.”
“Bonus points for you.”
“So, when should he a meeting of the moms?”
“I’ll ask her tonight, allow her to asses if the house is clean enough for company. As long as we don’t go within five feet of my room, I think we’ll be okay.”
“You’re room isn’t clean?”
“I still have boxes all over it,” Ceci replied as she stretched her legs out. “Want to help me unpack tonight? I may have to if we’re actually going to have company over.”
“Of course,” I said as every single thought about what could happen went through my mind. Everything from just simply unloading boxes to…well...I didn’t want to think too much of it and hoped that she wouldn’t read anything in the fact my eyes were like saucers.
“Perhaps a diet soda next time? Or hey, maybe water?”
I nodded in reply. “Cold water.”

The hallway became crowded so we got up and Ceci gathered her stuff for fifth period.
“So, no fighting for the rest fo the day?”
“I can hope so,” I replied.
“Perhaps you could bring a boxing glove?”
“I was thinking about putting a brick in one.”
“Might work. But it would be a hard windup.”
“Don’t really want to think about it,” I replied and bit my lip.
“Then don’t. Besides, people like him don’t carry grudges. They’re just waiting for another time they can humiliate you.”
“You really do know him.”
“I know the type. They’re everywhere!” She replied with a wave of our arms. “There wa s this one girl who made fun of my accent and the lisp I used to havre when I had to learn to talk again, and every day, like nine-thirty on the dot, she would walk by me and make these faces and talk like a baby or something; thinking that she was causing me anguish and pain. And I did have that look on my face.”
“She made you feel that bad?”
“Pshh, no. I was looking at her like that because I felt sorry for her because she looked like an idiot. Then I signed out ‘idiot’.”
“Did she know?”
“She assumed I cussed her out. I regret that I let her think that. I should have been nicer. Payback with kindness.”
“Maybe you’ll meet her again?”
“If I can ever find her.”
“If I can ever find her. Maybe we can plan a trip during the summer?”
“To Georgia?”
“Atlanta is nice,” she replied.
We said out goodbyes and she went into her class. I turned around and headed to the gym.
“You’re late, Lawrey!” Coach Smith boomed from the other side of them. The class was already running laps , so I ran into the locker room and dressed down. I planned to have a good time in class that day. They could slam me with a volleyball, and I wouldn’t care.
Dodgeball?
Sure.
Hockey game with real wooden sticks?
Why not?
Nothing could make me feel bad.

I avoided James as best I could, but our eyes met across the gym and with a sneer and some gestures to two other guys, I had three volleyballs trained on me. I was able to dodge two out of three—one of them thrown by James—but the final one nailed me in the head.
“Illegal throw, Thompson! You’re out!” Coach yelled from the side. Daryl was out, but James was successful in getting to me. It was his way of telling me I wouldn’t amount to anything in his eyes and maybe it was also a subtle way to remind me of my assumed place.
While falling, I caught myself and looked back to see James’s sneer. The thought of slamming him into the lockers crossed my mind but I knew that’s what he wanted. I heard a few snickers from the guys next to him, football players whose names escaped me.
There was an awkward thud as my body struck the trash can on the side of the gym and all eyes were on me.
“You okay, Lawrey?” Coach asked with perhaps more of concern that I had gotten blood on the floor than if I had sustained a concussion or a broken appendage.
“Yea, Coach,” I replied as I got on my knees and assessed I still had all my limbs, and I knew who the President was and the date. I also had to wonder if Coach would write me up for body-slamming James. I got up with a slight moan but then went back to playing the game. I had decided that James could pummel me all day and in turn, I threw as hard as I could at him every chance I could.
The ball landed square in James’ chest, bounced up and struck his chin, knocking him back. There were instant laughs from nearly all of the guys but no emotion from me. Sure, I was imaging myself pointing an arm out at him stating “You’re out!”—but Coach did that for me.
“You’re out, Taylor!” Coach’s voice boomed throughout the gym.
James took a look at me and charged!
Ever had to stand in the middle of a road, your arms stretched out, with an angry steer staring you down less than thirty feet away? I had done it twice. The first one was with a four-footed variety that was scared and stupid. The second one was with the two-legged kind that was angry and stupid. I admit, I took a few steps back and almost put my hands up in a feeble attempt at defending myself. I assumed there were a lot of people in the gym at that time thinking “It’s been a while since we had a fight break out.”

I would have been one of them, even though I never understood the fighting ritual at first: verbal taunts escalate to a shoving match and then, at Reardan at least, someone would be thrown into a locker and then into a kind of simultaneous headlock position. Then, the combatants either broke away and went back to insult mode and fake punches or a teacher would have ordered them to break it up. James, apparently, went straight for a body blow and it connected…and it hurt. I went to hit him back but was beaten to the punch—literally—by Mike, who clobbered James in the face and an actual fight erupted. The sound of shuffling feet followed by a crash of bodies as Mike threw James to the floor and held him in a chokehold. No one tried to pull them apart and a lot of us, myself included, looked to Coach to see what he would do.

It took a few minutes, and by then James’ face had turned a light shade of blue.
“He’s had enough! Drop him!”
Mike took that as an invitation to hoist James into the air and throw him a few feet away. At least I could tell Ceci that I didn’t start the fight.

A few minutes later—after James has his face slammed to the floor a half a dozen times and I had seen a side of Mike I had never witnessed before—the fight was over. It appeared Coach Smith wanted to see how it was going to end. To the rest of us it was a cross between a spectacular train wreck and the “WWF” with every punch James tried to throw, Mike would slam him to the ground. James would claw at Mike’s face, both would get up and the definition of insanity would occur again and again and again.
James was dressed down by the coach, then sent to the see the nurse.
Mike received a silent “congratulations” from just about everyone on the football team. Sure, James was on the team, but he has shot off his mouth and had to pay the price. This unwritten rule was another reason why I didn’t play football.
“Do I owe you a life debt or something?” I asked Mike as he spat blood into the locker room sink.
“I may have broken a tooth.”
I looked back at the rest of the locker room. What was normally filled with ego and bravado was silent except for a few showers running.
“You just get tired of the crap, you know?” Mike replied as he splashed water on his face.
I nodded.
“Think you could have handled him?”
“I told Ceci I wouldn’t and I’d probably be one with the gym floor by now. I’ve got a target on my back now, eh”
“Not really. To be honest, Jim had it coming. If not in the gym then on the field. Part of the unwritten rules of football.”
“Is there a rule about collateral damage that I need to know about?”
Mike shrugged. “James is a dick, so rules means little to him.”
“Exactly what I’m talking about.”
“He’s dick, but he’s not that stupid. It will take a few days for his bruised ego, face and chest to heal.”
“Thank you,” I replied as walked to my gym locker to dress down for a shower.

“Was that from James?” Ceci asked.
“Small school, isn’t it?” I replied.
Mike nodded.
“Are you okay?”
“He looks better than James does.”
“That’s true. I saw him go to the office.”
The three of us looked in the direction of the main office and then waked down the hall.
“Not my proudest moment, but I will say weight-lifting does wonders.”
I had never wanted to obtain a gym membership, but at that moment, I kind of wanted to.
“Thank you, Michael, I appreciate you watching over him.”
“Uhhh, you’re welcome,” Mike replied as he turned to see if anyone was looking.
“You owe him, Andrew.”
“I know. I think he’s trying to decide on the price.”
“We both know I’m not going to ask you to do my homework.”
“I’ll have you know, if I do your Algebra Two homework, you will be guaranteed at least a 71 percent grade….for the quarter.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Not by much.”
“No, I mean I’ll pass on the homework offer.”
“How about English?” Ceci asked. “We’ve been working on Gatsby.”
“When the time comes, I will demand the debt from you. It will not be academically-based. Excuse me while I check on this tooth.”
Mike turned to the restroom and we continued walking down the hall.
“I’m glad you didn’t try to fight James.”
“Because I’d get pummeled?”
“No, because James would just demand payback.”
I nodded as she took my hand.
“And then I would want to fight him.”
“I think you could take him down.”
“I never want to have it come to that. I’ve fought one guy in my entire life.”
“Did you win?”
“He got a few blows in, but I outran him.”
“I believe it.”