CHAPTER 17

IT FELT LATE, but Hudson wasn’t about to look at the time. He didn’t need to think about how many hours until the alarm rang —and how he wouldn’t be getting nearly enough sleep to be ready for tomorrow.

What he really needed to know was what Dad didn’t tell him last night. Whatever it was, it seemed like it was important. Hudson hoped and prayed this situation with Wolfe didn’t end up in a fight, but if it did? He could use all the advice he could get. Hudson opened his bedroom door another foot so he wouldn’t miss Dad when he did get home, then climbed back onto the upper bunk.

The Creating Change project popped into his mind —and Mr. Cutter’s words. If you really want a challenge, write your essay on something that needs to change in our society now. How would you create change in that area?

Hudson really wasn’t looking to prove anything by taking on a bigger challenge, but there needed to be some real change at school, didn’t there? Students who bullied others had to be stopped. What if he did his essay project on that? Could he come up with a way to change the kids right there at Southfield Middle School?

The scenarios kept popping into his head, and a strategy began to form. Not much of one, but it was something. He’d need a control group. A list of kids he’d observe. Kids who bullied. Definitely not hard to find a group like that.

His goal would be to get them to change their behavior. Stop bullying. Or at least pull way back. He’d have to keep a log. Careful notes.

How could he create change in their behavior? Stand up to them, for one. And he’d already started doing that.

He pulled out his phone. Scrolled to the audio memo app. Getting the details down was important, while they were still fresh. Like he could ever forget. He started the recording.

“Captain’s Log. Tuesday, October 17. Creating Change project —day one. Assumption: If you let bullies push you around, they’ll never change. But they need to change. The purpose of this project is to change the behavior of people who bully. I stood up to them —and am hoping they’ll back off.” Back off and then what? Pick on somebody else? No. He wanted more than that, didn’t he? He wanted to change them for good. Exactly how was he going to do that?

He summed up the day’s events, and closed the app. He jumped down from the top bunk and lay back on his own mattress.

The door opened a foot. A silhouette filled the space. Dad turned slightly, and the hall light illuminated his face. He looked beat. Dog-tired.

Hudson wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to get his advice. Wanted Dad to come up with a solution to make everything right —like he always did.

Better yet, maybe Dad would tell him he got his old job back and Hudson wouldn’t have to go back to Southfield —ever. Right.

Dad hung there in the doorway. His head in the room. His body in the hall. Listening to see if Hudson was awake, no doubt.

“’Night, Dad.” This is your opportunity. Tell him.

Dad’s face brightened. He swung open the door to the blinding hall light. “Hey, good night, Son. Mom tells me you made a breakthrough today with the whole friend thing. What’s his name?”

“Pancake.”

“I like him already.” Dad smiled like he was relieved. “Maybe we won’t need a second fighting lesson after all.”

He had no desire to slug his dad in the gut —or to make another trip to the basement. But if there was some vital piece of information he was missing . . . he needed to know. “There was something you were going to tell me last night.” Hudson practically blurted it out, instantly fearing it may have come out a little too desperate-sounding. “The most important thing.”

Dad looked at him for a long moment, then stepped over to the bed and sat on the edge. “This is between you and me. Deal?”

Hudson nodded.

“I know Mom wouldn’t approve of what I’m about to tell you —but only because she doesn’t really know what it can be like out there.”

Hudson sat up. Swallowed. “Okay.”

“This may not sound like the civilized, Christian thing to do, but this is about survival, know what I mean?” He paused.

A door opened in the hall. Dad held up one hand —listening. Last night Hudson was relieved Mom woke up. But tonight?

“What’s the most important thing?”

Dad tapped a finger to his lips and shook his head.

A toilet flushed. The faucet ran for a moment. It had to be Lizzy. Her bedroom door closed with a loud enough bang to wake the neighbors. Great.

They both sat there perfectly still. Listening. The house settled into its own blanket of quiet. If Mom did wake up, she hadn’t gotten out of bed. Yet.

“Okay. Normally we treat others the way we’d like to be treated. I’ve always taught you that. But sometimes it takes more.”

Dad glanced toward the hallway, then turned to Hudson. Even in this light the dead-serious look on his dad’s face was obvious. “Here’s the secret. This is what you’ve got to know. And this is what you’ve got to do.” He hesitated like he was having second thoughts.

“C’mon, Dad. You going to tell me or what?”

Dad balled his hand into a fist and held it up just below Hudson’s chin. “Hit first. Hit fast. Hit hard. Hit to hurt. And don’t stop hitting ’til they’re on the ground —and not getting up. That’s what you do. Never let them get the last word in —or the last hit.” He raised his eyebrows. “Got it?”

Hudson nodded. But there was no way.

“Trust me.” Maybe Dad sensed Hudson’s doubt. “This is God’s honest truth. Sometimes you have to deal with aggression that way. If you do it right, usually one time will take care of it. Knock a guy down on his keister hard enough —and he’ll wise up. He may not change, but he’ll leave you alone.”

What was Hudson supposed to say? In all his years of going to church, he’d never heard a pastor or Sunday school teacher say anything like what his dad just said.

“Keep them guessing,” Dad said.

They talked for probably another ten minutes. All about survival strategy. Finally Dad lowered his fist and shook his head, like he was trying to get out of the zone he’d been in. “But now that you’ve got Pancake, hopefully it will never get to that. Mom thinks I worry too much.”

Tell him. Would Dad be able to sleep if he knew what happened?

“Sorry I woke you.” Dad yawned —one of those long ones that made Hudson think Dad’s jaw might lock in that open position. “Get some sleep now, okay?” He stood and shuffled for the door.

“You too.” There was no way he was going to worry Dad. Not tonight.

Dad raised one hand like he was too tired to wave and slipped out. The hall light blinked off, and a sudden loneliness swept over Hudson with the darkness. Would it really come to this . . . to a fight? And would he have what it took if things did escalate to a brawl? God, what am I supposed to do?

He flexed the muscles in his legs. Stretched them. Tried to work out an antsy feeling that wouldn’t let go. He needed sleep. Needed to be sharp tomorrow. Not so much for classes. His mom was right about that. He’d do okay.

It was the tests between classes that he wasn’t so sure about.