The next week, Blocker followed me home every night. Three times with Phil and once without. They stopped now at the end of my road, to avoid Gumbo, but it was still nerve-wracking, and I was getting sick of it. They didn’t seem to care if I was with Ben or not.
Ben wanted to turn around and face them, but I didn’t want to start a fight.
On the Friday, I had been intending to walk home with Erica, but I sent her a text, making an excuse. I didn’t want her to have to endure Blocker and Phil’s attention. By now, I was so worked up about it I decided to change the rules of the game. I was mad at having to walk home feeling frightened, and I was mad at missing out on walking home with Erica.
So I turned the tables on them.
I asked Ben to walk home by himself and explained why. He nodded and trotted mechanically off. I hid behind some trees by the side of A Block and watched Blocker and Phil watching Ben walk away.
They were pretty persistent. They waited until nearly four o’clock for me before giving up and heading off.
I snuck out from behind the trees and followed them.
Look straight ahead, I thought at them. Don’t look back.
Old Saltham might not feel comfortable about trying to control those around him, but I had no such qualms. Especially when it came to Blocker Blüchner.
Blocker and Phil kept their eyes straight ahead. They never even glanced at each other while they talked about sports and the GWF.
I grew more and more daring as we walked and kept up a constant flow of the look straight ahead messages. I walked closer and closer behind them, almost as close as they had been doing to me.
I dropped back a bit though when they turned down the short lane into Acorn Park. No sense in being silly about it.
They passed the old stump, now fumigated by the council and dead as a doorknob, and followed the concrete path through the trees.
At that point Blocker said, ‘How about a game of Bench Seat Hockey?’
Phil just shook his head, but that didn’t discourage Blocker. They approached a long wooden bench seat in the park and Blocker, with some disgusting noises in the back of his nose and throat, summonsed up an almighty hock, which he spat on to the seat with relish, right where anyone would sit.
I screwed my face up.
‘Hockey one!’ Blocker cried, triumphantly.
The next bench seat was ‘Hockey two,’ and the next ‘Hockey three,’ and then they were out of the park, but that didn’t stop Blocker. They passed a bus stop, and that seat got the hockey treatment.
‘I am the hock-meister,’ Blocker yelled.
I was disgusted, and I don’t think Phil was all that impressed either. He wasn’t saying anything, but there was something about the shape of his shoulders which gave me an idea.
Blocker was going on about what a dumb-ass Tupai White was, and how he could thrash him if he didn’t always have his friends around him. It was utter crap, but I think Blocker almost believed it.
They got to the next bus stop, and Blocker hocked it good, then threw his head back and crowed, ‘Hock-a-doodle do.’
I aimed my full power at the back of Phil’s head.
What a jerk. What a jerk. What a jerk.
I guess I was aiming to sow a bit of disharmony in the ranks of my enemy, but I was unprepared for the reaction.
Phil said with a great depth of feeling, ‘You’re a jerk sometimes, Blocker.’
Blocker froze. I ducked into someone’s driveway and hid behind a pohutukawa tree.
‘What?’ Blocker said incredulously.
‘You’re a real jerk,’ Phil said, and I noticed he had left out the ‘sometimes’.
‘What the hell is wrong with you, all of a sudden?’
Phil looked suddenly nervous, but he didn’t back down. ‘All this seat bench stuff, it’s stupid. And following the frea … Jacob … home every day. What’s the point?’
‘Are you wussing out on me?’ Blocker loomed over Phil, who was tall and strong but not as big as Blocker.
‘Just grow up a bit.’
‘You dirt-bag!’ Blocker grabbed Phil by the shirt.
‘Get off me, you loser!’ Phil shouted, and that was when Blocker hit him.
Phil hit him back, hard, and Blocker doubled up for a second but, before Phil could do anything else, Blocker charged at him, bowling him over into a flower garden and raining punches on to him.
I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t expected this at all.
Phil was hitting back but he was out of his weight division and he was pinned underneath. I could see he was in a lot of trouble, which had been my intention, but not quite like this.
At that point the front door of the house next door opened and a face I recognised came running out. It was Jenny Kreisler from our class.
‘Get off him,’ she shrieked. ‘Leave him alone!’
That didn’t help at all. It was a right old scrap, and Phil was clearly getting the worst of it.
I almost came running out to help, although I was sure that would only make matters worse, when Jenny marched right up to them, grabbed Blocker by the hair and wrenched him off.
He nearly took a swing at her in his rage but stopped himself just in time.
‘Get out of here!’ Jenny shrieked at him. Other doors were starting to open now, lace curtains were being drawn back. Blocker stumbled off, mumbling to himself.
Phil hadn’t moved.
I was quite a few metres away down the street and still out of sight, so I just stayed put as Jenny helped Phil to his feet and took him inside her house. His face was a bloody mess.
When her door was closed, I casually walked by as if I had seen nothing.
I wasn’t at all sure whether to feel guilty or not.