The Old Kid In Town
Friend or Foe?
#darkthoughts #promptlywritten
I heard cries of lamentation rise and spill
on every hand, but saw no souls in pain
in all that waste; and, puzzled, I stood still.
— Dante Alighieri, The Inferno
It seems like I’ve been to every high school in America. I move around a lot, so I always need to make new friends; I usually spy out the lonely-looking ones; they’re usually up to hanging out with the new kid.
I rarely have trouble making new friends when I get to a new school. Wanna know my secret? I’m a pathological liar. I can convince these kids of anything. They want to believe I’m their friend. They are lonely, afraid, and confused. I feed them just enough bullshit, and they warm up to me quick. And, of course, my natural charm. I am a fountain of charisma. I come with no baggage, no strings attached. To my friends, I am the opposite of all the other people in their lives.
Ah, here we are, the cafeteria, the before-school hunting ground. All of your cliques herded into their little groups- jocks, heads, babes, dorks, nerds, spacemen, metalheads, dirtballs- I never quite found a niche with any of these esteemed crowds. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve hung with people from all of these flocks, but I just never quite got pigeonholed into one group or another.
Man, do these people look lost. And they’ve been to this school before. I’m the new kid, and I feel right at home. The corners, I always check out the corners…Yup, there he is, sitting there like he hasn’t got a friend in the world. Well, buddy, it’s your lucky day, because you are about to make friends with the new kid. I’ll just slide onto the bench across from him.
“Hey, what’s up? I’m the new kid here.”
No answer.
Man, this kid is dark. Jet black hair, bangs covering half his pale, white face. A cryptic, heavy metal, psycho, black t-shirt, old blue jeans, and a pair of crappy sneakers. His fashion statement shouts, “leave me the hell alone.”
“So, tell me what I can expect from this place, same old crap, right?”
No answer.
“Let’s start with an easy one, dude. What’s your name?”
No answer. I’ll get a rise out of him.
“You know you wouldn’t have such bad skin if you didn’t let your greasy hair hang in your face.”
No answer.
“Well, for the sake of this delightful conversation, why don’t I call you Blackie.”
“Alright, and I’ll call you asshole.”
“My god, it speaks. As much as I respect your creative license, why don’t you just call me “new kid” for now? So listen what’s the scoop around here, looks just like every other asylum I’ve been to this year.”
“What the heck is a asylum?”
“Never mind, just a little joke. I know, why don’t you tell the new kid where his classes are, so he don’t get lost and look like a … what was the word?”
“Asshole”
“Right. So, where is 215? It’s my homeroom, Mr. Furman.”
“I’m in 214, right across the hall. When it’s time, I’ll show you where to go.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you’d like to tell me where to go. I’m sorry if I pissed you off, but you gotta be assertive as the new kid, or you will never make friends.”
I think he is starting to warm up a bit. Seems like a nice kid, but so damn dark, I wonder what he’s hiding. No problem, usually what they’re hiding is what they want to show me first.
— — —
I made it through homeroom. A bunch of stiffs in this place. I’ll have to find my new friend, I think we are going to have a real good relationship. He seems like my kind of kid. There he is. Uh-oh, it looks like he is in trouble. Some big ox with the number 52 on his shirt has him by the throat, pressed up against a locker. I wonder if 52 is his uniform number or his IQ.
“You never touch Marla, punk, you hear me. I don’t want to mess up my hands by smacking the crap out of you, but I will if you don’t start acting like the nobody that you are.”
That must be Marla next to him. She looks like a Marla. Yellow hair, brown roots, prom queen thighs, and using up every inch of that sweater.
“C’mon Sack, it wasn’t like that, her hair was hangin’ on my desk, and I had to move it to see my notebook. It was a accident.”
“That’s not how she tells it; she says you were stroking it pretty good. You’d better stick to playing with dolls and leave the real women for guys like me. Now get the hell out of here, before I decide to pummel you.”
Sack shoves Blackie up against a nearby locker, feigns a punch to the face, eliciting a flinch, and walks away, arm around Marla.
Blackie is handling this pretty well. He doesn’t even look scared. He never even looked at Sack…Sack?…he pretty much just kept staring at Marla. Not a bad idea, but when I’m about to lose a few vital organs, even I forget about the babes.
“Jesus, Blackie, what the heck happened.”
“I don’t know man. I was just sitting there in class, Marla sits right in front of me and she smells so good, man. She looked so beautiful that it pissed me off. The next thing I knew, I was reaching up and stroking her hair. She turned around and gave me a look from hell. It was kinda cool cause girls like her usually look right through me. Anyway, she didn’t like it, and she told Sack, and that’s when you came along.”
“So what is the story with this Sack guy, typical meat head, I guess.”
“Actually, Sack was the first friend I ever had. For a while we were best friends. He was called Julius back then, though. He lived down the street. We used to hang out. His dad was a real piece of work, always making Julius stop playing with me to go practice football. And then one day, Julius came to my house crying, with an arm full of my stuff. Said his dad told him he wasn’t allowed hanging out with me anymore because I was a nobody, and he needed to be around people who could help him with football. Sack did…does, whatever his dad says, so that was it, no more friend.”
“Ta hell with him, you’re better off; look how he turned out.”
“Yeah, I guess. Well, I’d better get to my next class, see who wants to knock my head off there.”
“Alright. Hey, Blackie, you’re not going to let the new kid eat lunch alone now, are you.”
“I guess not. That is if you don’t mind being seen with me. I’ll be in my usual corner. Probably would get expelled, or my ass kicked, if I sat anywhere else.”
— — —
Wow, that Blackie is stuck in a serious rut. You know, that rut where everyone keeps telling you you’re a loser, and you start actually believing it. Well, his past is of no concern to me, all I care about is making his future one for the history books. The kid feels equal, if not even a little superior, to me. That has to be an original mental outlook for the guy. Don’t mean shit to me though; my self-esteem is solid as a rock. I know who I am, and I know why I’m here. I just hope that Blackie is receptive to my plan. He looks like a prime candidate to me.
I sat through a couple classes, then skipped one. I don’t like Phys. Ed., figured I’d just wander around a bit, maybe meet some new friends. Damn, this school is huge. A fellow could get lost in a castle like this. No matter, can’t get lost if you ain’t goin’ no place special.
— — -
There he is, my man Blackie. He is one lonesome-looking son of a bitch. He doesn’t see me waving. Just sorta staring down at his desk. Looks like the teacher is giving him a good ass chewing. The rest of the class seems to be enjoying themselves, laughing their heads off. He definitely knows how to separate himself from a crowd. Here he comes. This is working out great. Damn, is his face red, you could light a candle on those ears.
“Hey, Blackie what ya doin’, makin’ a break for it?”
“What do you want. Are you working for my parents or something, following me around?”
“Hell no, I’m just selective in my educational priorities.”
“You’re nuts, you know that.”
“Hey, wait a minute, is that a smile I see on that ugly face of yours, you might be human after all.”
“I don’t know if it is a smile or not, it’s been so long since I had one I forget what it feels like.”
“I think I can put a smile on that face. Whatta ya say we get out of here and enjoy a little nature.”
“I don’t know, man, I’m this close to being kicked out of this place. They’re just looking for a reason to wipe this smudge off their beautiful high school. And anyway, its almost time for lunch. That is the only class I think I’m passing.”
“C’mon, Mr. Smudge, have I ever steered you wrong in all the hours we’ve known each other. There is no reason for two great adventurers like ourselves to be cooped up in this prison. There is so much to see and so much to learn outside the walls of this place.”
“What the heck, high school dropout will be the fitting addition to my already pathetic resume’.”
“That’s what I like to hear. So what the heck were you doin leaving class so early, goin to pick a shiny red apple for the teacher.”
“No, I flunked another Chemistry test. Seems Miss Steubing didn’t think that a skull and crossbones was the proper chemical symbol for sodium chloride. She asked me for an explanation and told me I would never pass the class if I didn’t shape up. When I didn’t give her an explanation, she told me to report to study hall, since I had no interest in learning anything in her class anyway. I had no problem with that, and that’s when I ran into you.”
“I can’t quite figure out if you’re a hopeless case or not. I’m still bettin’ that you’re not. Anyway, who cares. Let’s go talk to some squirrels. Take me to the nearest park, and let’s have some fun.”
— — —
We made it to the park. My boy was starting to relax a bit. Our friendship was off to a great start.
“So Blackie, I was wondering, would you like to indulge.”
“Indulge?”
“Yeah, here we are, the sun is shining, a warm breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, we are one with nature. So what better way to be one with nature than to get totally blown.”
“I have no idea what you are talkin about, man, but to tell you the truth, I’m kinda gettin’ used to it.”
“Weed dude, grass, spleef,….MARIJUANA. You have heard of marijuana.”
“Yeah, I’m not a idiot. It’s just that I’ve never…I mean I…it’s just that…I usually only smoke at night, like at parties. Can’t we get in trouble here at the park?”
“The only trouble you can get into in life man is when you limit your experiences out of fear and paranoia. Cut loose — free your mind. I promise you this stuff will be the answer to all your problems. Let your worries fly away on the cannabis express. Like I said, have I ever steered you wrong.”
“You know, I don’t know why, but I do kinda trust you. Ok light it up; I could seriously use a ride on that express you’re talkin about.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Behold the joint of life. A tug or two on that will loosen the ropes that bind your life.”
“Man, where (cough) did you learn to talk like that. You (cough) like some sort of preacher or somethin.”
“I am a preacher, the preacher of the church of the new kid. Now shut up and smoke that thing, you’re spittin’ good weed all over the park.”
“ I am smokin’ it, leave me alone, I’m startin’ to float over here. Heh, heh, what’s in this stuff. I’m feelin’ a little goofy.”
“Goofy is the goal, you know. So tell me. Have you always had such a problem with chemistry? You seem kinda bright, why don’t you just pass the damn class and get the hell out of that place.”
“I used to like chemistry. Had my very own chemistry set when I was a kid. I could make invisible ink, and all kinds of cool stuff. I don’t know man, it just seems like nothin’ matters anymore. I figure if I don’t matter, why should anything else. This will make you laugh, I once even thought about goin’ to college and studyin’ chemistry. That’s why I’m in that class with all of those geeks, I told my guidance counselor, and he signed me up for the Chemistry Track. I guess I used to be real naïve, you know, believin’ I had a future and that I might be somebody some day.”
“Lighten up, dude. And anyway, you are somebody. You are the stoned friend of the new kid. That’s a great honor. Forget about all of that future shit. There is no future, there is only now. Let’s make some waves now. The future’s gonna suck even more than the present, so there is no reason to get all worked up about it. We just gotta sit here and take it. You know what I mean, man. Life sucks, so all we can do is suck back and wait for it all to end. Now finsh that thing, so we can light up another one.”
— — —
Jesus, what time is it? We must’ve fallen asleep. I gotta get this kid home. Worried parents cramp my style.
“Hey, Blackie…Blackie wake up man, it’s gettin’ dark. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“What…shut up…my head is pounding…what the heck happened.”
“What happened is we got totally baked and fell asleep on this picnic table. We’re lucky we didn’t get arrested. Let’s get goin’ before it gets dark, and the police start checking out the place.”
“Yeah…yeah, good idea. You know how to get to your house from here.”
“Doesn’t matter, I ain’t goin home, I’ll just hang out somewhere else for a while.”
“Why don’t you come over to my place. We can listen to some tunes or something. After my mom passes out, I can take her car and give you a lift home.”
“Sounds good to me, I’m still pretty stoned, it would be a shame to waste a buzz like this by being alone.”
“Yeah, I’m still feelin pretty funny myself. Follow me, my house is through the woods over there. It’s only about a five-minute walk if you take the shortcut. I know these woods, even in the dark. This is where I used to come when my parents fought, and that was most of the time. It was always so quiet. After so long, I didn’t need to come to the woods anymore. The yelling was almost like silence to me. I heard it so much that it was quiet that scared me more. When it’s quiet, I hear my thoughts louder.”
“Hey, Blackie, how the hell can you see where you’re goin, I’m afraid I’m gonna run into a tree or somethin’.”
“Just follow me. Like I said, I spent most of my childhood here. These woods were my best friend for a long time. Then when I was old enough and didn’t need friends no more, I stopped coming here….there’s my house now.”
I tell ya, I knew before I saw it exactly what this kid’s house looked like. Red bricks, white siding. Basketball hoop at the end of the driveway with a bicycle, missing a tire, leaning against the pole. Nice little wreath on the front door. Not a Christmas wreath or anything, just a wreath. The American Dream turned nightmare.
Let me guess who’s inside. A once pretty mom, who looks back at her decision to marry the jerk she did as the official end of her life. A nice lady who needs nothing more than to feel young and needed again. Maybe when I’m finished with her young son here, I can concentrate on her. Hey, I’m open to saving people of all ages.
As we walk in the back door, I see her. Well, what I see is the back of a head that hasn’t seen a hairbrush in a while, and a hand hanging weakly over the arm of the chair reaching for a half-empty bottle of vodka. This woman is trashed. I can tell she was anxiously awaiting the cheerful return of her loving family.
“Who is it…who’s there…is that you Henry.”
Uh-oh, I think we woke her.
“No, it’s just me, Mom, I’m with a friend.”
“Friend, whatta ya mean, friend?”
“We’re going to listen to some music or something. Is dad coming home soon?”
“I don’t know, it depends on whether his new secretary needs any personal training tonight or not.”
She really got to the kid with that one, he looks like he got hit with a roundhouse right.
“Can my friend stay for dinner?”
“I don’t give a damn, but you’ll have to fix it yourself, I have a headache.”
We’re finally headed upstairs. Thank god, this was starting to depress even me.
“Blackie, man, what’s the deal with the old lady, she sick or something, she don’t look so good.”
“She used to…she used to be beautiful. But my dad, he just yelled at her all the time, and then he started hitting her sometimes. She was pretty, and smart, and fun, and he just took all the life out of her. Now she just sits there and drinks. She don’t give a shit about him, and she don’t give a shit about me.
“So they fight all the time.” I think he’s buying my concerned act.
“Nah, he never comes home on time anymore, and when he does, she’s passed out in the chair or in her bed, and he just goes to sleep without waking her. The yellin’ and the hittin’ stopped awhile ago. Now everybody just ignores everybody else, and we have one big happy freakin’ family. It’s cool though, they don’t care when I come home…or if I come home. They don’t ask me about my grades or nothin’.”
“So how do you deal with this, I know if this was my home life, I would be lookin for a way out.”
There it is. I think I see the kid gettin’ a tear in his eye. It’s always a good sign for me when the tears show up because then I know I got them right where I want them.
“I ain’t got no money, and they sure ain’t goin to give it to me. So I’m stuck here.”
“Does the old man hit on you?”
“He don’t hit me. I used to be worried he would, so I got this.”
Blackie, my man. He’s showing me a gun. This is like taking candy from a baby, then dipping it in poison and giving it back.
“Nice gun. You know how to use it?”
“When I was little, Dad taught me how to shoot. He taught me a lot of stuff. You know, like sports, how to work on cars, stuff like that. Now all he teaches me is life sucks, and all I’ve got to look forward to is a bunch more years of shit.”
He’s sobbing now; staring at the floor, won’t look me in the eye. Man, I’ve seen this despair before, this kid’s the real deal. Time to wrap this up.
“You know, I can show you a way to end all this bullshit. It’s easy, and it won’t take long.”
“Yeah, how’s that, win the lottery or something?”
“No, let’s get out of here, man. Go to where there is no school, no parents, no Sack whatshisname. A place where all this shit doesn’t mean a thing.”
“I told you, I ain’t got any money.”
“It doesn’t take any money to go to this place.”
“Yeah, right, where is it, fantasy land or somethin’.”
“No man, it’s a place I can show you where all your problems will fade away. You will be around people like yourself, you know, people who think like me and you.”
“Alright, if you say so. But can I at least say goodbye to my parents first?”
“No, remember, they don’t care. They’ll try and talk you out of it. Parents always think they know what’s best. Anyway, they’re who you’re trying to get away from. Just leave ’em a note. Tell them you’ll be ok. Now grab that gun, follow me, let’s get outta here before we change our minds.”
“Alright, if you say so. You‘re my only friend. But, hey, since you are my friend, don’t you think you could tell me your name. “New Kid” feels kinda impersonal.”
“Yeah, I guess if we are going to do this, it’s time we got better acquainted, like on a first-name basis, so to speak. My name’s Suicide, what’s yours?”
There was no answer.
