chapter four

When I wake up, my door is closed. This surprises me because I never close my door. Then I see a strange dresser and closet. And the bedspread is green. How can that be? My bedspread is blue.

This isn’t my room, I think. Where am I?

Then I see the pure white walls. That makes me remember. This is the group home, I think. Mom and Linda are at my real home. I’m here all alone.

I’m scared to get up. I think if I get up, Sue will get mad. She’ll sit on me.

Someone knocks on the door. Then it opens. A man stands in the door. I’ve never seen him before. Where is Sue?

“Hello, Jason,” he says. “My name is Peter. I’m one of the staff who work here. It’s time to get up now. I want you to get dressed. Then make your bed.”

I put on my black pants and blue shirt. I make the bed. Then I sit on it. I think I have to be real careful around this Peter. He’s a man, and a man is bigger than a lady. A man can hurt you more.

I have to go to the bathroom, but I don’t ask. I think this will make Peter mad. I sit and wait.

Peter comes back. “Are you hungry?” he asks.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” I ask.

Peter says I can use the bathroom whenever I want. Then he makes me a big breakfast—corn flakes, an egg, and some toast. I eat lots. Peter tells me he’ll take me to my new school. The other boys have already left for their schools. This is my first day, so I get to go late.

Peter says I have to make a lunch. I’ve never made a lunch before. Mom made me peanut butter sandwiches for school. So Peter shows me how to get my lunch ready. I make two ham sandwiches. Then I get an apple, a juice box, and some Fruit Wrinkles. This is a big lunch, I think. I hide one sandwich in my dresser. This is in case they don’t give me supper.

Peter walks me to my new school. It’s not far. It’s a gray school—like a big gray box. I don’t like this school or any school. There are too many kids. There are too many grown-ups. Too many people get me worried. You never know what might happen around all those people.

Peter takes me to meet my new teacher. Her name is Mrs. Pell. Peter says he’ll pick me up after school. Then he says goodbye and leaves. Mrs. Pell tells me to sit in a desk at the front of the class. I don’t like this because I can’t see behind me. There are lots of kids behind me. In my last school, some kids poked me and threw things at my back. I always had to be ready. How can I be ready if I can’t see behind me? You have to see behind you to know what’s coming.

I sit sideways so I can see behind me. Mrs. Pell doesn’t like this. She wants me to sit so I’m looking at her. But I can’t—I have to see behind me.

My last teacher did this, too. I got into lots of trouble. I don’t want that to happen again. Maybe I can sit the way Mrs. Pell wants and still see behind me. I try sitting with my head turned back.

Mrs. Pell doesn’t like this, either. “Turn around, Jason,” she says. She sounds mad. But she doesn’t have to sit with her back to the class. She can see everyone all the time.

It isn’t fair, I think. I have to see the other kids. You never know.

The lunch bell rings real loud. It’s so loud, I jerk in my desk. A kid laughs. I think he’s laughing at me. That makes me mad.

“Jason,” says Mrs. Pell. A boy is standing next to her. “This is Bill. He’s going to spend the lunch hour with you. He’ll show you around the playground.”

“Okay,” I say. I get my coat and lunch. Then Bill and I go outside. Right away, I go over to the school wall and sit against it. That way, I can see everybody. But Bill doesn’t want to sit by the wall.

“This is stupid,” he says. “Let’s go sit over there with my friends.”

He points to some boys. They’re sitting beside the basketball hoop. They look okay, but I want to sit here—where I can see everyone.

“No,” I say. “I want to sit here.”

“Well, I’m going over there,” Bill says. He goes over to his friends and leaves me alone. That’s fine with me. Bill is nice, but maybe too nice. Being with someone who’s nice won’t help me right now. Now, I have to watch out for the kids who aren’t nice—the bullies, the bad kids, the ones like me. So I sit by myself and watch while I eat my ham sandwich. I watch while I drink my juice. And I watch while I eat my Fruit Wrinkles—the kind with the funny shapes.

I see some boys from my class—not Bill and his friends, but some others. They’re the ones I’m looking for. They’re the mean ones. There are always some mean ones. When you’re new, you have to find out how strong the mean ones are. You have to make them fight. Then you know how they fight and you can beat them.

The mean boys are playing marbles. I go over to their game and grab a marble. It’s the biggest boy’s marble. I think he’s the meanest.

“Give it back!” says the boy.

I put the marble into my pocket. “Make me!” I say.

I’ve been in lots of fights. Even if I’m skinny, I know how to kick and hit. I learned this from fighting my dad. He moved away last year, but before that, he hit me lots. So I know how to fight because of him, and I’m good at it. I know I can beat this boy easy. But then two of them jump me.

I’ve beaten two kids in a fight before. When I fight, I fight real hard. I fight so hard, I can’t see anything. There’s just a big bubble of mad inside me. I feel that bubble of mad now inside my tummy. It gets bigger and bigger. I think it’s going to burst and I’ll burst, too. I kick and hit. It feels like the two boys are getting bigger. It feels like there are more and more boys. I fight harder and harder.

Then a teacher stops the fight. The other boys run away and it’s just the teacher and me. He’s big and I get scared. I kick him to make him move away. He grabs me and puts me down on the ground. Then he sits on me. I get more scared. Inside my head, this teacher turns into my dad. I scream and kick harder.

My dad used to hit me with his belt. It hurt. Sometimes I could hardly walk after. He hit me all the time. Then he and Mom divorced and he moved away. But now it feels like he’s come back. I get all mixed up. I think it’s my dad sitting on me. I get more and more scared. The other kids have all gone into the school. Everything is quiet, except for my screaming. No one will see if this man hurts me.

The teacher holds my arms. He doesn’t hit me. He just holds me tight so I can’t move. Slowly, the bubble of mad inside me goes away. Now I can see the teacher isn’t my dad.

“Let me go!” I say.

“I’m Mr. Warner,” says the man. “I’m your school principal. I’m going to let you up now. I want you to stand quietly.”

He lets me up slow. I want to run, but he keeps a hand on my arm.

“Come inside,” he says. “We need to talk.”

Mr. Warner takes me to his office. He says he wants me to talk to the other boys. He wants me to say I’m sorry. He wants me to give back the marble.

Mr. Warner calls the other boys into his office. I look at the meanest boy. His name is Larry. I don’t care about the marble. I think Larry knows this. He knows you have to watch out for the big kids. Whoever is bigger will get you. That’s the way it is.

Now I know a little about how Larry fights. Tomorrow, I’ll fight him again to find out more. Then I’ll know everything. If Larry knows I’m stronger, he’ll be scared of me. Then he’ll leave me alone.

I give back Larry’s marble. I say I’m sorry. Larry and I shake hands.

Then we go back to class. I have to sit at the front again. Mrs. Pell keeps saying, “Turn around, Jason.” She doesn’t know I have to see behind me.

I try to think about the math she’s teaching. I try to think about three times six, and seventy divided by seven. But I keep thinking about the kids behind me. And I think about Linda. I bet she just got peanut butter sandwiches for lunch today. It makes me feel bad about eating my ham sandwich.

Mrs. Pell asks why I haven’t done my work. I’m busy thinking about Linda, and it’s loud inside my head. So when Mrs. Pell talks to me, the big bubble of mad comes back. I yell at Mrs. Pell. I throw my math book on the floor.

Mrs. Pell sends me to Mr. Warner’s office. I wait there until Sue comes to pick me up. Mr. Warner says I can’t come back until tomorrow. I’m suspended for today.

That’s fine with me. I don’t want to go to that school. There are too many kids. You can’t watch them all. Besides, it’s not my school. I want my school back.