A Better Place Read online

Page 2


  I went into my bedroom and sat at the old kitchen table that served as a desk. It was rickety and squeaked. I opened up my books and worked on my homework. I wanted to get it done when no one was around. I wanted to finish before Jason got home so I could hide it somewhere. Sometimes Jason thought it was funny to rip up my homework so I had to do it all over again.

  I was sure I’d have plenty of time, however. It was barely four and Jason would be out for hours yet, getting into trouble with his friends. I sat and worked, scribbling out an essay for English, reading a chapter for science, and doing a bunch of problems for math. I was done in less than an hour. All I had to do was read some in The Lord Of The Flies for English and I could do that later.

  I was hungry. I got up and went into the kitchen. I found some left over macaroni and cheese in the refrigerator. I heated it up on the stove and ate it right out of the pan. It was really good. I always had to find myself something for supper and most of the time there was nothing there at all. Sometimes, when I got really hungry, I’d slip into dad’s room when no one else was home. I knew where he kept a jar of change hidden. He threw his change in there whenever he came back from the bars. Sometimes I stole a couple of dollars out of it and went somewhere and bought something to eat. I knew it was wrong to steal, but when I was really hungry I didn’t care so much. Besides, parents were supposed to take care of their kids.

  I didn’t have to steal that night, however. I ate every last bit of the macaroni and cheese. I washed up the pan when I was done, so my brother wouldn’t see it sitting there. If he did, he might yell at me for eating it. He considered everything to be his and I got hurt if I touched stuff.

  I went back to my room and lay down on the bed. It wasn’t even my bed, it was Jason’s. I didn’t have one. We were supposed to share, but Jason had claimed it as his. I’d put up a fight for it at first, but as always, Jason’s muscles got him what he wanted. He was a lot stronger than me and I didn’t stand a chance against him. I’d gone to Dad and complained, and I was instantly sorry. He just glared at me and told me to stop being a pussy and stand up for myself. Dad made me feel really worthless. Maybe he was right. I never could stand up to my brother, or anyone else for that matter. Maybe I deserved to be treated the way I was.

  Jason wasn’t home, so I lie on his bed and read. I didn’t dare defy him when he was home, but I could get away with a few things when he was gone. The bed was soft and cozy, a lot more comfortable than the foam rubber mattress I slept on. It wasn’t even a real mattress, but a thick piece of foam rubber like they use to make sofas. Luckily I was small, so I fit on it pretty well.

  I turned the pages of my book and lost myself in The Lord Of The Flies. There was something rather pleasant in reading about boys running around wild in only their underwear. There was something uncomfortable about the book too. It seemed a little too much like my own life. Sure, I lived in a boring little town in Kentucky instead of a tropical island, but life at school, and at home, wasn’t all that different from life in the book. Sometimes I felt just like Ralph, frantically hiding as Jack and the other boys searched for me, a stick sharpened at both ends. I tried not to think about that too much and just concentrated instead on the more pleasant parts of the novel. I wished I could live on an island like that; it must have been wonderful to be in a place so beautiful…

  I awoke with a start. Someone was shaking me roughly. They were gripping my shoulders so tightly they hurt.

  “Wake up, you little wuss.”

  My eyes opened, Jason was on top of me, glaring at me. The room was dark except for the bare bulb overhead. I must’ve fallen asleep reading.

  “What do you think you’re doing on my bed? Huh?”

  Jason climbed up on me, digging his knees painfully into my chest. He started slapping the sides of my face with his hands, one then the other, harder and harder.

  “What-have-I-told-you-about-messing-with-my-stuff!” He smacked me once with each word for emphasis. My cheeks were hot and stung painfully.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. He was hurting me.

  “I’m sorr-ee,” he said mocking me, pretending he was crying. He smacked me harder. It made me mad. I tried to push him off, but couldn’t budge him.

  “Oh, baby’s gonna cry,” he said.

  I bit my lip and tried to keep the tears out of my eyes. I couldn’t help it. He was hurting me. Finally, he grew tired of tormenting me and stopped. He lay down full length on top of me and stared into my eyes.

  “You know, I might let you stay in bed with me, but there’s a price,” he said.

  I swallowed hard, my eyes darting around. I tried not to look at him. I didn’t like the look in his eyes. I’d seen that look before. I knew what it meant. Jason pushed himself hard against me. I could feel the bulge in his pants.

  “Wanna sleep with me, Casper? Huh?”

  I wiggled and squirmed, trying to get out from underneath him. He grabbed my arms and held me in place, pressing harder against me. He was starting to breathe hard. I was scared.

  I struggled against him, but he was too strong for me. I grew more terrified with each passing moment. I cried and shrieked and screamed, but there was no one to hear. In my terror I did something I normally would not have done. I spit in my brother’s face. He jerked back and I used the opportunity to bolt from the bed and run down the hall. Jason was hard on my heels.

  “Get back here you little bastard. You’ll pay for that!”

  I ran into the bathroom and only just got it locked before he slammed himself against it. He pounded on the door and called me horrible names. He acted more like a vicious animal than a human being. He terrified me when he was like that.

  I wasted no time, but lifted myself up and climbed out the window. I ran into the darkness, swiftly, silently. After a little while I stopped. I listened, but there was no sign of pursuit.

  I rubbed my arms to warm them. It was a little chilly and I was wearing only a thin t-shirt. It was late, past midnight. I walked along the sidewalk toward the cemetery. I couldn’t go home yet. I had to at least wait until Jason had fallen asleep. Then maybe I could slip in without him knowing, and wake up early and get out of the house before he got up. Jason didn’t like getting up in the mornings, not for anything, not even to hurt me. The longer I could keep away from him, the better it would be. I knew he’d hurt me for spitting in his face, but it was better than what would have happened if I’d stayed in that bed. Jason didn’t bother me like that very much, but when he did…I shivered. I didn’t want to think about it. I blocked it from my mind and pretended it had never happened.

  I walked on past the cemetery and onto the park. The moonlight was bright and made it almost like day. The park was empty. I curled up on a bench and wrapped my arms tightly around my body, trying to be my own blanket. I shivered. It was fall and it was chilly, not too bad really, but I wasn’t comfortable. The bench was hard and hurt my shoulder, and my head. Compared to the bench, my little foam rubber mattress was luxurious.

  I tried to forget about what had happened, and about being cold. I imagined that I was sleeping under a great palm tree, on a warm tropical island, just like in The Lord Of The Flies. I was tired. I kept thinking of the waves lapping at the beach and the warm sand releasing all the heat it had sucked up during the day. I drifted off to sleep listening to the gulls.

  I did not sleep easy. My life invaded my dreams. I was standing on a beautiful beach, a spear in my hand, wearing only a loin-cloth. The sun felt warm on my tanned torso. I was happy but it didn’t last…

  “There you are you little bitch!” yelled Jason. He was running toward me, followed by Brent, George, and Jimmy. All of them were wearing nothing but underwear. They all carried spears, except for Jason; he carried a long stick sharpened at both ends. I bolted, running as fast as I could. They were hot on my heels.

  I was Ralph and they were going to cut off my head and impale it on the stick. I tore up the beach trying to get away,
but I couldn’t do it. Jimmy dove at my ankles and sent me crashing into the hot sand. They all piled on me; Jason held a sharp knife to my throat. I screamed.

  I jerked upright on the bench, shivering from fear, and a chill in the air. It was early. I didn’t have a watch, so I wasn’t quite sure how early. I guessed about six or so in the morning. I thought about going home to clean up, but then thought better of it. Instead I pulled off my shirt and washed myself in the fountain. The water was cold and made goose-bumps on my skin. I washed my face and wet my hair down. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping I wouldn’t look too bad at school.

  My stomach growled, but there was nothing to eat. I was used to that, however. I reminded myself that I’d get something to eat at lunch, and then maybe I could find something else when I got home after school. Being hungry wasn’t too bad really, not when you got used to it, unless it lasted a long time. When I went without anything to eat for a long time I got all shaky, and my stomach hurt.

  I flicked the water off my chest and arms with my hands, wishing I had a towel. I put my shirt back on and walked to warm myself up. I didn’t really have anywhere to go, so I went ahead and walked to school. It was well before time for school when I got there, but the doors were open and I went in. It was a lot warmer inside. I began to lose the chill that had seeped into my body. I found myself a corner in the cafeteria and sat down in a chair. I put my head on the table and closed my eyes. I hadn’t slept well on the hard park bench.

  I must have fallen asleep, for it seemed only a few minutes later when I heard people walking by. I was still tired, but I felt better. I stretched and looked at the clock. I still had plenty of time. I walked to my locker and worked the combination. For once it opened on the first try. I was glad it did, because I caught site of Brent out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed what books I needed and headed for first period English before he had a chance to spot me and start trouble. He didn’t always come after me when he saw me. Brent had a lot of boys he picked on and he couldn’t always get around to us all. I made sure to stay out of his way, however, just in case it was my turn.

  I nearly made it to the relative safety of English class without incident. Just before I got there my brother came out of nowhere and shouldered me, nearly knocking my books out of my arms. I know that’s what he meant to do. He looked a little disappointed because he hadn’t succeeded. I smiled inwardly.

  “I’ll be seeing you later, bitch,” he snarled at me, and then went on. I knew what he meant. I knew I’d have to pay for spitting in his face. Whatever he did to me, it was better than what would have happened.

  I didn’t have my copy of The Lord of the Flies for class. I’d left it at home along with a few other books. I didn’t really need it anyway. I’d already read the chapters we were covering and I had a good memory. Stacey sat down beside me and asked me to fill her in on what we were supposed to have read. I picked up where I’d left off at lunch the day before and brought her up to speed.

  “You’d better be glad we’re friends,” I said. “Without me you’d be going to summer school.”

  She laughed. I noticed a couple of girls looking at me, like they thought that Stacey and I shouldn’t be friends. I knew they thought she was too good for me, and that I was nothing, just a poor boy. I tried not to let that kind of thing get to me, but it did. I self consciously covered up the hole in my shirt and stuck my feet under the desk in front of me so they couldn’t see my shoes.

  I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. My clothes embarrassed me. I got a lot of looks from the other kids in school. Most of them were too nice to say anything, but I knew what they were thinking. I got looks from the teachers too. I think those looks were the worst, because what I read there was pity. I couldn’t stand it that they actually pitied me. It made me depressed. Sometimes it was hard just to walk down the hallway, wearing clothes that were little better than rags. The kids with nice clothes didn’t know how easy they had it. I’d never had a new shirt, pants, or pair of shoes in my entire life. All I got was hand-me-downs from my dad, and my brother.

  The teacher started asking questions about our reading, and I lost myself in the discussion. I didn’t speak out a whole lot, but when he called on me I could answer. In that, at least, I was as good as everyone else. I didn’t have nice clothes, or live in a nice house, but I wasn’t stupid.

  By the time lunch rolled around I was starving. I was so hungry that I said “yes” to everything the lunch lady offered me. I think she could tell I was really hungry, because she gave me more than anyone else. I didn’t turn it down either.

  I took my usual seat beside Stacey and tried not to wolf down my lunch. I felt like shoveling it in as fast as I could, but I didn’t want anyone to notice me eating like that. Besides, I wanted to make it last. I ate the lima beans first, because they were my least favorite. I usually saved what I liked best for last. I’m not quite sure why I did that, but I always did. I guess maybe I did it because it was something to look forward to, like the lunch that was coming up on Friday. We were having pizza. I loved pizza. I’d been thinking about lunch on Friday for days.

  Brendan Brewer walked toward our table and Stacey and the other girls practically drooled over him. I heard one of them say “He’s sooooo cute.” He sat down not far from us. A few of his football buddies followed him and it changed the way everyone acted at the table. All the girls were stealing glances of him and talking to him. All the guys looked like they were trying to be impressive. It was like he was some celebrity or something. I guess he was, at least in our school. Everyone knew him and admired him. Not only was he captain of the football team, he was, without doubt, the best looking guy in school. He was handsome and had really nice muscles. Just looking at him made me breathe a little funny, but I didn’t like to think about what that meant.

  Yeah, he had nice muscles. I liked the way they bulged with his slightest movement. I froze, and then looked around quickly when I realized what I was thinking. I turned a little red in the face, even though there was no way anyone could tell what was going through my mind. I suddenly felt sick. Not physically sick, but emotionally sick, well, maybe a little physically sick too. I knew something was wrong with me. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking things like that. Boys weren’t supposed to notice such things about other boys. It was bad, unnatural.

  I ate slowly, but lunch didn’t taste so good after that. I didn’t like to be reminded that there was something wrong with me. I didn’t like it when I lost control and let myself think things about other boys like that. Sometimes I couldn’t seem to help it and that really scared me. I didn’t know what I’d do if someone found out.

  I thought about Jason and how much I hated him. I think he’s the one who did it to me. He’s the one that made me like that. He gave it to me, like a disease. I hated it when he got like that, it terrified me, and yet some little part of me didn’t hate it. Maybe some part of me even wanted him to do what he did. I shuddered. I pushed it from my mind. I just wouldn’t think about it.

  I knew deep down that what was wrong with me wasn’t Jason’s fault. It was me. The other boys were right when they called me names. Even though they didn’t know for sure, something gave me away and made them treat me like they did.

  “Hey kid, um…”

  “Casper,” said Stacey.

  “Casper, can you pass me that salt?”

  I looked up. I’d been totally lost in my own little world. I was shocked. Brendan Brewer was actually talking to me.

  “Um, yeah sure,” I said and did as he asked. I had to stand up and stretch way over to pass him the salt. His fingers brushed mine. I felt a tingle pass through my entire body. His eyes locked on mine for that brief moment and I felt like he could read my mind. My face grew hot. I turned my attention back to my lunch and hoped that no one was looking at me. When I looked up, I knew I was safe; all attention was focused on Brendan.

  Brendan kept looking in my direction. At least I guessed so. He might have bee
n looking at Stacey, which would have made more sense, but I think he was looking at me. I wondered why he was looking at me. I was afraid that maybe he really did know what I’d been thinking. I sure hoped not. I didn’t need yet another guy who was twice my size hunting me down to beat the shit out of me. I didn’t look in Brendan’s direction anymore, just in case. I didn’t want the coolest guy in school to know what a total freak I was.

  Brendan

  I put down my tray and sat near Stacey Gibson and the cute little blond boy that always sat with her at lunch. I’d noticed him around school. He seemed nervous and afraid almost all the time, withdrawn and quiet, except when he was with Stacey. He talked more around her, and even laughed.

  He was especially cute when he laughed, but he was cute all the time. I found myself drawn to his boyish good looks. He looked really young and I felt a little guilty about my attraction to him, but he was a freshman, so he couldn’t be that young.

  “Hey kid, um…” I realized I didn’t even know his name. I hoped he didn’t think I was a jerk for calling him kid.

  “Casper,” said Stacey.

  “Casper, can you pass me that salt?”

  Casper looked up. He seemed lost, like he didn’t even quite know where he was. He looked surprised too, like it got to him that I’d spoken to him. I was accustomed to that look, but usually from girls. Seeing the expression on Casper’s face made me hopeful.

  “Um, yeah sure.”

  Our fingers brushed, and I smiled at him as I took the salt. I put a little on my lima beans, since I wasn’t going to eat those anyway. I didn’t want anyone noticing that I’d asked for the salt and didn’t use it. I knew I was being paranoid, but I wasn’t going to take the slightest risk that someone would find out about my secret.