The Power Within

Brian and Pete: The Power Within

Chapter Fourteen

Adapting

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I didn’t realize how much I was going to miss football. After an uneventful day at school, I went straight home and immediately became bored. Exercise is good for the body. However, working out seven days a week as I once had was not an option for a lot of reasons, past history not withstanding. Working out and running took up some of the time, but I didn’t want to fall back into the pattern I had established years before when living with the Forns after Pete was taken away from me. I knew that I would have to find something to occupy at least some of my idle time.

I brooded over the issue the entire night, so much so that it gained my mother’s scrutiny. She watched me through the afternoon and decided to bring it to everyone’s attention during dinner.

“Brian, I’m worried. You’ve been upset all day. Is there something you’re not telling us? Did something happen at school?”

“No, mom,” I answered with a sigh. “School is fine. I’m just thinking about what I can do now that I’m not playing football.”

“Work out,” suggested Ray. “Run.”

“Oh, I intend to, but I can’t do that every day, or I shouldn’t. I need something…”

“How about your writing, Brian?” Jason asked.

“I’ll do that too. No, I mean something will take up some time between school and dinner.”

“Get a job, Kellam,” Ray quipped. “At least that’ll stop your fucking whining.”

“Raymond, language!” reprimanded my mom in a stern voice.

“Mandarin Chinese.”

“Raymond…”

“Cantonese?”

“Raymond, you’re making me…”

“Japanese?”

Mom sighed in frustration. “I give up.”

The rest of us chuckled as Ray chalked up a minor victory.

“Well?” he asked again.

“A job, huh?”

“Brian, I don’t want you doing this,” Mom asked. “I don’t want it interfering with your school work.”

“It won’t. I get most of my work done in school as it is, and I need to make some cash.”

“I’ll give you money,” she said. “That’s not the issue. I need you to stay here.”

“Mom…”

“With Pete… not being here, there is more work to be done for everyone, and I want you at home.

“Mom…”

“And I need you to get your license now, too, Brian,” mom continued. “You’ll need to be able to drive yourself and Dawn to school.”

“Mom! You can’t protect me by isolating me.”

“I’m not….” I stared hard at her. “Okay, I’m trying. I still want you to come home after school since you don’t have practice.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s a choice I made. I wouldn’t change it. And I’ll get my license,” I added.

“That will be good. You can taxi your sister then.”

“Yeah,” Dawn piped up. “You can take me to the mall with my friends.”

“Never mind. Running is fine,” I quipped, needling my sister.

“Brian…” she complained.

“Just kidding, mugwump.”

“Make the appointment, Brian, and I’ll take you down,” Kevin said. “Just let me know.”

“Okay,” I said as I gathered my dishes. “I’ll make the appointment tomorrow.”

“Good enough.”

I said good night to my family, retreated to my room to finish my homework, and finally went to bed.

Wednesday was a far cry from the day before. It began with Krogh and Garza hanging out around the entrance I used. They followed me and made every derogatory comment they could think of directed toward homosexuals in general. They didn’t address me directly, so I didn’t respond to any of their taunts, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t make me angry.

As I walked through the halls, I began paying attention to people and what they were doing as they moved from class to class. Some people seemed to be perfectly at ease as they made their way through the sea of teenagers, and others seemed apprehensive, almost afraid that they would be noticed. Here and there I saw younger students get shoved out of the way or have their books knocked out of their hands. It began to disturb me just how common that type of harassment was, and I wondered how I could have missed it before.

I started watching the way people were reacting to me as I passed them, and whether or not they would meet my eyes. Most glanced up at me and then looked away. A few glared at me, their hostility quite evident in their expressions if not their words.

When school let out I ran across James Kuhns, the boy who Lee Krogh had been bullying before I stepped in and started the fight. He was a little bit taller than I was with brown hair and matching eyes, but his thin frame and glasses gave him a mousy appearance that was amplified by his submissive posture. He cast a shy smile my direction.

“Hi, um, Brian,” he nearly whispered as we met.

“Hi, James. How are you doing?” I asked, genuinely interested in his welfare.

“Okay,” he replied hesitantly, as though talking to me were a task nearly beyond his capability.

I inquired, “Have you had any more trouble?”

He shrugged and dropped his eyes. “Some. It’s not as bad as it was.” His speech carried a slight lisp that added to the illusion of diminutive stature that surrounded him.

Seeing he was obviously uncomfortable talking to me, I smiled and said, “I’m glad to hear that, James. I’ll catch you later, okay?” before walking on.

“Brian?” James called after me.

I turned and watched him take the few steps to stand in front of me again.

“I just… wanted to say… well… nobody’s ever… um… Thanks.”

I smiled again and offered him my hand. He looked between my hand and my eyes several times before taking it and shaking it with moderate pressure.

I allowed my smile to fade into a more sober set. “James, I won’t bite you, okay? You don’t need to be afraid of me; I won’t hurt you.” James seemed uncertain, so I pressed on. “You were going to say something about nobody ever…”

“Um, yeah, well… nobody ever stuck up for me before.” He blushed, embarrassed.

“Maybe it’s time someone did.”

“Um, can I… uh... ask you… um... a question?” he haltingly requested.

“Sure.”

His eyes met mine and sharpened, boring into mine. The intensity of his gaze shocked me because it was in complete contradiction to the personality he had displayed up to that point.

Gaining courage, he asked, “Are you sure you’re gay?” Without a break or pause.

“James, I’m certain of it,” I assured him. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that because I played football and like to lift weights that I can’t be gay. That has nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, well, all the gay people I’ve met are like me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I inquired, unsure of his meaning.

“You know… all faggy.”

“Faggy? Effeminate, you mean?” He shrugged. “I can’t speak to that, but what I can tell you is that I know several people who are gay and play football. I know another that skateboards. My best friend is six-four, weighs close to two hundred and thirty pounds, and has a boyfriend. Another friend played football. Another doesn’t play sports at all. My point is that you don’t have to act any certain way to be gay.”

“I’m not acting,” James countered. “I wish I was!”

“Easy, James. I didn’t mean anything. Look – do you have to go home right away?”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“I just wanted to talk some more. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“My mom’s picking me up,” he said defensively.

“Where do you live?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” James stated flatly.

“Okay,” I acquiesced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. Maybe we could talk some more tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” James said as he walked away. “Bye.”

“Bye, James.”

I watched him go, feeling uneasy. The conversation had turned into a confrontation that left him at least somewhat antagonistic toward me. That was not something I wanted.

“Hanging out with your faggot friends, Kellam?” Krogh’s hateful voice came from behind me, along with Jesus’ low chuckle.

Without turning around, I asked, “Why? Looking for a date?”

“Fuck you!”

I walked away from him and said over my shoulder, “Uh… no. I wouldn’t fuck you, even with Jesus’s dick. See you guys tomorrow.” I kept moving, listening for them to charge me, but they never came at me.

Mom was waiting in the parking lot for Ray and me. Ray had preceded me out of the school and was already in the front seat. I took the back seat without complaint and buckled in for the ride home.

“How was your day, honey,” Mom asked as we pulled away.

“You know… about like I expect.”

“In other words, those assholes have you a hard time,” Ray translated.

“Raymond, language!”

“Italian.”

“No more than usual,” I hedged, ignoring the byplay. “I expect it from them, so it’s no big deal.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with it at all, Brian,” my mother persisted. “You need to talk to Mr. Johnson about this and get it stopped.”

“Mom, we’ve been over and over this,” I sighed. “The school can’t protect me after hours. Why do you want me to give Krogh and the rest of them a reason to hate me more?”

“It’s not right!” she exclaimed.

“I know. There’s nothing I can do about it, though, so it makes no sense to get upset about it.”

“Brian, are you sure it won’t interfere with your school work?” Mom asked pointedly.

“You know what my grades look like.”

“And I want to keep them there, young man,” she said sternly. “If I see the slightest drop in your grades, I will go to the principal. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, Mom, I got it. I know what my responsibilities are.”

“I mean it, Brian!”

“You’ve made yourself very clear, mother.”

“Don’t get smart with me, young man!”

I shut my mouth and looked out the window, certain there was no way I could answer and not get myself in deeper. The silence lasted until we got home when Ray got out.

I paused in the back seat for a moment, and as I reached for the door handle, she spoke.

“Brian?”

“Anything I say will just make you more angry,” I stated.

“I want you to be safe!” my mother insisted.

“And you think I don’t?” I inquired acerbically. “You think it thrills me to have to look over my shoulder all the time?” She frowned at me, preparing to blast me for my impertinence, but I opened the door and forestalled her tirade. “Never mind,” I said as I got out.

“Brian…”

I shut the door and stalked my way into the house, ignoring my mother’s calls for me to return to the car. Once inside, I retreated to my room and shut the door, resisting the temptation to slam it. Realizing very quickly that I needed to do something to rid myself of the anxious energy contained in my body, I changed into a pair of sweats. A quiet knock on the door sounded as I began to pull on my shoes.

“Brian,” my mom called, “can I come in?”

I didn’t answer, instead finishing putting on my shoes. The knock came again as I completed tying them.

“Brian?”

I opened the door to face my mother. Her anxious expression did not display the anger I expected to see.

“Can I come in?”

I stepped out of her way and invited her in with a gesture. She entered and closed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry I got upset with you. I know you’re aware of your responsibilities. I didn’t need to make such a fuss about it, and I’m sorry.” When I didn’t respond, she continued, “I look at you and I see you as you are, nearly a man now. You’ll only be with us for another two years, and then you’ll be out on your own, going to some school somewhere.

“I know we try to put the past behind but, honey, we missed so much of your life because of the mistakes we made…. In my mind you’re still thirteen and need me more than you actually do. And now you’re dealing with things that I can’t even imagine, and it makes me afraid. I want to protect you so much, but I know I can’t. It’s hard for me to let go, to let you be who you are and who you want to be.”

“You can’t stop it, mom,” I said gently.

“I know, and that’s almost as frightening as hearing about the… the hate you’re facing.”

“I can handle it.”

She was quiet for a moment, simply observing me. I met her gaze without hesitation or self-consciousness, schooling my face into a neutral expression. Mom bit her bottom lip for a second and then spoke again.

“You’re so much like your father, so stubborn and sure of yourself. That’s one of the things that attracted me to him.” I wasn’t certain how to respond to that statement, so I didn’t. “You’re nearly grown up now, and I can’t help but think of you as my little boy.”

I wasn’t really surprised to see her eyes glistening, but I was surprised when she stepped up to me and wrapped me up in a tight hug, her arms under mine. I slowly put my arms around her and returned the embrace, my mind struggling to grasp the significance of her words. Something important had passed between us, but I was uncertain exactly what it was. I released her a minute later when she pushed away, and she pulled me down to kiss my cheek.

“You’re a good boy, Brian.”

“Mom? Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

“Oh, I suppose. I just got a dose of reality, that’s all.” I eyed her for a moment. “I’m all right, Brian. I’m an old lady realizing exactly how old I am.”

“You’re not old,” I protested quietly.

“That’s nice of you to say, sweetheart,” she said with a wan smile. What are you going to do?”

“Now? Work out. I need to get some energy burned off.”

“No, I mean in general.”

I shrugged. “Develop a routine of some sort. School, chores, working out, homework….”

“That won’t give you much free time,” my mom cautioned me.

“Trust me mom,” I said seriously, “free time isn’t high on my list right now.”

On Thursday afternoon, I ran home in the rain after school. I felt restless, and after several well placed barbs from Jesus Garza, angry enough that I knew I needed time to cool down before going home. I caught Ray on the way out and told him to tell my mom I was running, and he said he would.

As I splashed through the water, I spent considerable time thinking about ways I could blunt the effect of the comments made by people such as Garza and Krogh. My friends tried to be with me as much as possible, but it seemed that my antagonists were on the watch and knew when I was alone. The come backs I had were fine as far as they went, but they made them more angry and more determined to attack me rather than ignore me, which is what I wanted.

When I arrived home the house was empty. A note said my mom took Ray and Dawn out. I grinned at the thought of Ray going shopping. I’d have to remember to give him a hard time.

The mail was on the kitchen table. I leafed through it, hoping for a post card or letter from my dad and found instead a bill with Pete’s name on it. I debated on setting it aside or letting him know it was here. Kevin had put his phone number by the phone, and I thought that a quick call to inform Pete would not be a big deal, so I dialed his number.

“Hi Kevin,” said Pete said happily when he answered.

“It’s me.”

His voice went from warm to frozen in an instant. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

I cleared my throat. “I called to tell you…”

“I don’t care! Don’t you get it? Just leave me the fuck alone!”

The line went dead.

I hung up the receiver.

I stood motionless for a moment, staring at the phone before I went to my room. Heedless of my sopping wet clothes, I curled up on my bed and cried.

The next day I went to school as planned, but after lunch, I couldn’t stand to sit in a classroom anymore. I left school and walked to Barnes and Noble. The rain had stopped sometime during the night prior, but the ground was still saturated and puddles of water lay everywhere. I managed to keep dry on the way there, and spent about an hour looking through the gay section and found nothing to keep my interest, so I started back to school to be there in time to be picked up by my mother, so she wouldn’t know I had skipped.

I made it into the school building just as the final bell rang, and met mom outside before Ray appeared. I sat in the front, and we talked while we waited.

“How was your day, hon?” Mom asked lightly.

“Okay,” I replied, my tone flat.

“Did you have any more problems with those boys?”

“No,” I grated. “I just ignored them.”

My mother observed, “That can’t be easy for you, Brian.”

I growled, “It’s not. I hate it.”

“There has to be something…”

“There’s not,” I snapped. “Okay? Just… just leave it alone.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Brian?” she asked suspiciously.

“Like what?” I countered irritably.

“Why don’t you tell me what it is that’s bothering you,” my mom said, her tone compassionate and calm. “Maybe there is something that I can do to help.”

“No, Mom,” I sighed. “There’s nothing you can do to help me with this. No one can.”

“You’re so certain?”

“Positive.”

“Why? Why are you so certain that I can’t help you?” Mom was clearly frustrated.

“Because you’re not Pete, and you aren’t Krogh, Garza, or Langley. You can’t change what’s happened, and you can’t put me back in the closet. There’s nothing you can do, Mom!”

Her face fell into a stricken expression. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, and I realized how harsh my words had been.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s hard for me, too.”

“I know, hon, I know.”

The rear door opened, and Ray jumped in. He immediately noticed the tension in the car.

“Okay, what did I miss?”

I sighed again. “I had a rough day.”

“I’m sorry, Brian,” Ray said with an uncommon note of sympathy in his voice. “Is there anything I can do?”

A short, bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “No, Ray, but thanks anyway.”

Ray and I spent the afternoon cleaning out the hayloft in the barn. The roof had leaked and the straw up there had mildewed. We even managed to find the leak, but we couldn’t fix it without climbing onto the roof itself. When we were done, Ray and I were famished.

The refrigerator never stood a chance when we made it to the kitchen. We pulled out some ingredients and made quesadillas for dinner. Everyone said they were good, but I had no illusions as to my lack of culinary skill. As we cleaned up, the phone rang. Ray picked it up since he was closest.

“Hello?”

He listened for a few seconds and then hung up, returning to the table. I looked at him curiously, but he didn’t react and resumed helping me with the dishes. The phone rang once more. Again he answered the phone and again hung up almost immediately.

“Okay, Ray,” Kevin called from the living room where he was watching a show, “I will get the phone if it rings again. You don’t touch it.”

Ray muttered, “I wonder what it would take to get that number blocked.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Getting that number blocked.”

“Which?”

“The fuckstick who just called twice.”

“Raymond! Lan--”

“French!”

“--guage!”

“Who?” I asked, completely in the dark.

“You know. Judas.”

“Who?” I asked again.

“Christ, Brian, you are dense sometimes. Judas Pete!”

All I could do is look at Ray and shake my head as the phone rang again.

After dinner, I spent some time finishing a writing assignment, and then changed into my sweats to work out. Once I had started exercising, my energy level never waned. In fact, it increased. It was only my mother’s pointed comment about locking me out of the weight room that caused me to stop.

Tuesday morning found me stiff and in pain. It was so bad that I almost changed my plans on running to school, but I decided a nice easy jog would stretch me out and relieve some of the cramping. It took an extra twenty minutes to get there and left me a bit rushed to shower and dress, but the effort and initial discomfort was worth the relief I felt the rest of the day.

Lunch came after fourth period English. As was my new habit, I wandered through the halls to drop off my books before heading to the caf for lunch. Tomas happened by and met me there. He raised an eyebrow as he took in my stiff gait. I’m certain Tomas could sense I didn’t really want company, but he followed me through the line and sat with me anyway.

“How are you holding up, Brian?” he asked.

“Okay. I’m finding things to do to keep me busy,” I said quietly. “It’s hard, but I’m surviving”

“You work out too hard or something? You’re gimping it up pretty good.”

“Yeah, I did.”

We ate in silence for a few moments.

“What happened really sucks. A lot of us think so. Most of the guys on the team, in fact.” Tomas said in an off-handed manner.

“Yeah, well, I broke the rules,” I responded. “I knew what would happen when I came to James’ defense and it ended up in a fight.”

“Why?” My friend asked, his penetrating gaze locked on my eyes.

“Why what?”

“Why did you step up for James? It’s not the first time Krogh, Langley, and my dimwit of a brother gave him a hard time.”

I dropped my eyes to my now unappetizing lunch. With a deep sigh I explained, “A lot of reasons. I hate bullies anyway. The attack on Matthew Shepard had a lot to do with it. It was no secret James is gay, and to see them harass him… Shepard’s death hit me hard. I couldn’t just watch.”

“They weren’t going to kill him, Brian,” Tomas stated.

I raised my eyes to see if Tomas was being sarcastic, but he wasn’t.

“That doesn’t matter. Look at it this way. Let’s say it was you getting abused every day. Should we let them rank you out and beat you up because they don’t kill you?”

“They weren’t going to fight him, either.”

“You’re certain of that?” I asked in return. “You’re sure that they weren’t going to beat the hell out of him, then or later? I bet you we can go to James right now and ask him how many times he’s been beaten and who did it, and he would call out Krogh or Langley, and it would be more than once.”

“That still doesn’t mean they were going to beat him.”

“What’s going on here, Tomas? Should we sit by and watch people get destroyed by assholes who think beating up smaller guys is some kind of fun?”

“Of course not,” Tomas conceded, “But how…”

“Tomas, I have seen enough to know that James getting beaten was a definite possibility,” I asserted. “That alone is reason enough to act.”

“You can’t be there for everyone, Brian.”

“So I shouldn’t help anyone?” I questioned heatedly. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Tomas looked at me for a moment and then sighed. “There are no easy answers.”

“No, there aren’t,” I agreed. “But like I said, I’m not going to stand by and watch it if I can do something about it.”

“As long as you don’t get yourself in trouble in the process.”

“That’s not as important as making sure some kid doesn’t get harassed.”

“Brian, you can’t protect every kid in school just by yourself. No one could.”

“Then maybe I need to get some help,” I commented as I stood to leave.

“Where are you going?” Tomas queried. “You haven’t finished your lunch.”

“I’m not hungry. I have some thinking to do.”

“I’ll come with you,” Tomas said, half-rising.

“No, you finish. I need some time to myself.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “I’m sure. I’ll talk to you later on.”

After dumping my nearly untouched tray, I wandered back toward the library. Tomas was right: I couldn’t save the world, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do something for my little part of it. I knew I had to take a stand of some sort for my own well being. Watching all those kids get picked on and in some cases physically abused made me angry, and I was tired of standing by and doing nothing, and watching everyone else do nothing as well. Even if James didn’t appreciate it, I knew I had sent a message to Krogh and his gang. They had to know I wouldn’t tolerate their abuse, no matter what form it took.

What I observed as I turned the corner set my blood afire. Blake Scoggins had cornered a much smaller boy who I recognized as a freshman. The kid was terrified of the massive form before him. Almost without thought, I strode toward them. The younger boy tried to get away from Blake, but two massive hands gripped his shirt and pulled him back. An evil smile from Blake sent me into action.

“Is there a problem here?” I asked with a calm that amazed me.

“Fuck off, faggot,” grated Scoggins with a sneer. “This ain’t none of your business.” He nonetheless removed his hands from his would-be target.

“Oh, but it is. What’s your name?” I asked the frightened boy.

“Vince,” he squeaked, his voice not yet dropped into a more manly register.

“Hi, Vince. I’m Brian.” I offered my hand, and Vince took it tremulously, his very touch betraying his fear. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said gently, and then hardening my tone, continued, “and neither is he. Right Blake?” The bully stared at me through narrowed eyes. Without dropping my gaze, I squared off with the larger teen and said, “Go on, Vince. You have somewhere to be, right?”

A squeak in the affirmative was followed quickly by fast moving footsteps away from us. Blake continued to glare at me.

In a level voice, I said, “If I see you picking on someone again, I’ll be right here in your face. You’re done terrorizing people.”

“You’re asking for a beating, you fucker.”

“Mr. Scoggins! I will see you in my office now, if you please.”

Mr. Johnson’s sharp voice added to the tension between Blake and me. He glanced toward the vice principal, and then back at me.

“Now, Mr. Scoggins!”

“This isn’t over, Kellam,” he warned.

I held my tongue but allowed a tight smile to come through.

Blake spun on his heel and marched off, followed closely by Mr. Johnson, who gave me a stern look as he passed. Off to the side, I saw Vince watching. When he noticed, he smiled shyly before turning away.

I walked to the library, contemplating what I was going to do. Tomas had been right: I couldn’t be there for everyone, but something had to be done. Blake Scoggins’s type of intimidation ran rampant throughout the school. Apparently the school staff ignored it or didn’t see it, and I found that hard to believe. Either way, it was up to the students to do something. By the time the warning bell rang, an idea had taken form in the back of my mind.