Chapter 13
Repairing the Harm
I’m used to Constable Haddad hanging out at my locker every morning to check in with me. He starts with the usual questions. How’s it going? and Did you have a good night last night? But today, he looks more serious.
“Are you ready for your first meeting with Lucas and Mr. Giezenman?” he asks.
“Yeah. Sure.” I try to sound casual.
“I know you and Lucas aren’t exactly buddies. But this is important, Zaine.” Constable Haddad keeps his eyes locked onto mine. “You need to get him home from school without any fights or other problems. Then do whatever chores Mr. Giezenman tells you to. Don’t mess around.”
As Constable Haddad turns and walks down the hall, Fletch calls out to me. “Looks like you and the pig aren’t seeing things eye to eye.” He shakes his head. “Me, Skeeter, and Bryce — we knew as soon as the guy arrived at our school that he was on a power trip. What’s he up to anyway?”
I toss my jean jacket into my locker and slam the door shut. “Just this thing I’ve gotta do,” I say. “To get some charges dropped.”
I didn’t mean to say that last part. But I’m still rattled about starting to work with Geezer and Lucas today.
“Sounds like you’ve been busy.” Fletch and the other two fall into step beside me.
While we walk down the hall together, it occurs to me that I’m finally doing what everyone else at school does. I’m hanging out with friends. I’m not completely sure these guys actually are my friends. Still, it feels okay for a change. And they seem to feel the same way I do about cops — especially about Constable Haddad.
I give them a wave as I step inside the classroom. Lucas looks the other way. I do the same. It’s like we’ve both decided to ignore each other for the day. At least that’s something we agree on.
After school, I’m reaching for Lucas’s stuff to help load it into his backpack. “We have to hurry if we’re gonna make the next bus,” I say.
“Not so fast,” Lucas says. “I’ll decide what kind of help I want from you.”
He shuffles his books and his glasses case and the rest of his crap. It takes forever for him to load up his backpack. By the time we leave the school, we’ve missed the first bus. I grit my teeth and pace around the bus stop while we wait for the next one.
When we finally get to Geezer’s house, he hands me a massive list of jobs. Laundry. Scrubbing the bathroom. Cleaning the mouldy vegetables out of the fridge. He’s wearing a walking cast now. He’s not even using crutches any more. I’m sure he could do some of this stuff himself. Instead, he’s ordering me around. The twisted, broken-nosed smile across his tough old face tells me he’s enjoying every minute of it.
I’ve finished everything on the list when Geezer calls over to me. “You know how to cook?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Go scrub up,” he says. “You’re on for making dinner.”
When I come back to the kitchen, he has pulled out some food onto the counter.
“You know how to make schnitzel?” he asks.
“I don’t even know what that is,” I say.
“Oh, for god’s sake!” Geezer shakes his head. “Over in that cupboard,” he points. “Take out three bowls. You’ll need them for dipping the meat into.”
I’m trying to do what he asks. But he keeps sputtering and correcting me from the kitchen table. “Not like that! You dip the pork in the flour first. Then the egg. The bread crumbs are last.
“And get that frypan warming up,” he says. “You think you can cook schnitzel in a cold skillet? Not friggin’ likely!”
Just then, Lucas joins us in the kitchen. A scowl is fixed on his face. I can’t believe I have five weeks of this to go. I clamp my jaw shut so I don’t say anything.
When the schnitzel is golden-brown, I take it off the stove. I’ve also boiled some potatoes and carrots. It smells great. My stomach is grumbling as I walk out the door. I’m starving by the time I get to Aunt Sarah’s house.
As soon as I step inside, the twins jump on me.
“Zaine!”
“Where you been?”
“I was helping someone out,” I say.
“Why?” they ask.
“Because it’s, um, my new job.”
“Why?”
“Because the man and his grandson both hurt their legs.”
“Why?”
I look over at Aunt Sarah. She smiles and shrugs. “How did everything go?”
“It was okay.”
“That’s good,” Aunt Sarah says. “I saved your dinner in the fridge.”
Carter speaks up. “Why do you —”
“No more questions right now,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because I’m hungry enough to eat two kids named Carter and Lawson.”
They squeal and run away. They’re still giggling as I wolf down the leftover chicken and rice.