pox, dope, pod, deep, sex, pee, does, do, posed
‘YOU COULD HAVE killed him.’
My mom’s voice was calm, but in a creepy, just-barely kind of way. She was wearing her best suit, the navy blue one that she’d bought at Goodwill when we lived in Regina. It had gold buttons on the jacket and made her look classy and businesslike all at once. I sat beside her in a straight-backed chair, and because I’d wanted to look businesslike too, I’d worn my brown pants (which were a little tight in the crotch) and a blue-and-white striped button-up shirt that I’d found at Value Village. It was two sizes too big, but it still looked good.
Troy, Mike, and Josh sat opposite us, all squished together on the principal’s couch, which was old and plaid and gave off a funny smell. They hadn’t made any effort to dress up. In between us, at his desk, sat our principal, Mr Acheson. He had the look of a guy who’d been a jock in his day, but now he was kind of flabby and almost bald. He was wearing one of his famous ties (the one with the dancing frogs). I think he hoped the ties would make the kids like him better.
They didn’t.
I’d been released from hospital the day before. Other than still feeling a bit shaky, I was physically OK. But mentally, I was a wreck.
‘It was supposed to be a joke,’ said Troy, gazing at me with his tiny eyes like he wanted to squash me.
My mom stiffened. ‘A joke. So, your idea of humor is to risk a friend’s life.’
‘It was an accident,’ Mike interjected, but Mom just stared daggers at him.
‘An accident?’ Her voice was rising. ‘You three deliberately put a peanut in my son’s sandwich, knowing that he had a deadly peanut allergy. What kind of heartless half-wits—’
‘Please, Ms Bukowski, calm down,’ the principal said.
‘Mrs Bukowski,’ Mom replied. ‘And calm down? My son was almost killed and you’re asking me to f—ing calm down?’
Oh, man. I’d been keeping my fingers crossed that Mom wouldn’t get to the foulmouthed trucker stage.
‘I could file criminal charges against these three punks: assault causing bodily harm, willful malice—’
‘Ms Bukowski,’ the principal said firmly.
‘Mrs Bukowski.’
‘If you’re going to make threats like that, I’ll have to call the boys’ parents as well as the school board superintendent.’
Mom actually shut up. There was an uneasy silence for a moment.
‘Boys, what do you have to say for yourselves?’ asked Mr Acheson.
‘We thought he was exaggerating,’ Josh said.
‘Yeah, how could we know he was serious?’ Mike added.
‘Because he’s your friend!’ Mom shouted.
Troy snorted. I sank a little further into my seat.
Mom stared at him. ‘What was that?’
‘Nothing,’ Troy mumbled.
‘No, I’d like to know.’
‘He’s not our friend,’ Troy said.
Mom shook her head. ‘If he’s not your friend, then why did you invite him to your birthday party?’
Like I said. Poop. Fan. Kapooey.
Troy blinked, confused. ‘My birthday’s not till March.’
Mom looked at me, but I pretended I’d just found something really interesting on my Ikes.
‘See? He’s a big fat liar,’ Mike said.
‘Now, boys—’ Mr Acheson began.
‘He told us his family was loaded and the only reason he went to a public school was because his parents wanted him to mix with regular kids,’ said Troy.
‘He told us you spent your weekends up at Whistler, in your chalet,’ Josh added.
Mike said, ‘But it didn’t make sense, the way he dresses and all …’
‘Weird purple pants and fake Nikes.’
‘Yeah, if he has so much money, why does he walk around with a hot pink fanny pack?’
OK, so I’d experimented with the truth. But being honest about myself hadn’t exactly worked for me at my other schools, so I’d decided to try something new this time.
‘We thought the peanut thing was another lie,’ said Troy. ‘You know, another way of trying to get our attention. We wanted to make a point, I guess.’
My mom was speechless. I could feel her looking at me, but I kept staring at my shoes, like I was willing an N to appear.
Mr Acheson finally filled the silence. ‘Ms … Mrs … Bukowski. This was a terribly unfortunate event, and we are deeply sorry for the pain it’s caused. The boys have each received a severe reprimand and their parents have been informed. They’re also on lunchroom clean-up for a month. They know that if anything like this, or even close to this, ever happens again, they will be suspended. But after hearing what the boys have to say, I don’t see what more we can do.’
I waited for the next round of swears to come spewing out of my mom’s mouth. But instead, she just stood up. ‘Thank you for your time,’ she said, brushing a strand of hair off her face.
Then she walked out.
Without me.
I sat there for a moment, not sure what to do. Finally I said, ‘No hard feelings on my part, dudes.’ I aimed for a casual smile, but they stared at me like I was a total idiot. Even Mr Acheson looked embarrassed for me.
So I stood up, deciding I could at least walk out with my head held high, but I guess my leg had fallen asleep because it gave out from under me and I almost fell. I caught myself on the edge of Mr Acheson’s desk, spilling his pencil holder. I started to gather up the pencils, but he said – rather sharply, I thought – ‘Just leave it.’
So I walked out of the office, dragging my sleeping leg behind me. And feeling like the biggest loser in the world.