Red and Blue Chronicles Box Set

Chapter 4-1

Chapter 4But night after night I read on, diving deeper and deeper into my memories. Nathan was still overseas and I had nothing better to do, so sitting all alone in our new condo, I flipped through the pages of my past, revisiting that wonderful, but confusing time of my life…

Dear Bump,

Dad is leaving for two months.

On account of a job in the Hudson Bay. I’m going to be responsible for the garbage and snow shoveling. Some of the cleaning, too, but mostly the scrubbing of the toilet bowl. Aunt Frannie is coming to stay with us until Christmas. Dad is leaving on a train, and he’s leaving on Tuesday. He said, “Take care of your ma and don’t let Aunt Frannie drink too much.”

I’ve never been on a train, but I’ve been on the subway a lot, so that counts for something.

Next week is Halloween. I’m going as a pirate. Boone is going as a mass murderer. He and Nick have been working on some sort of graveyard set. They plan on “having little kids s**t their E.T. costumes.” When I was there yesterday, they were trying out a home recipe for fake blood and human tissue. Mrs. Lund warned, “If one of you ends up blind because of this revolting mixture, don’t expect me to drive you around for the rest of your life.” But she stuck around the kitchen anyway. I think she was fascinated by the result.

I didn’t know this, but Nick is really good at arts and crafts. I tried not to watch him, but that’s like trying to keep my eyes on a book when the TV is on.

I noticed everything Nick picks up always looks so much more interesting in his fingers. He made a mask out of papier maché and used flour and water to create scar tissue. The mask is in the shape of a human face, except it has no mouth, just two slits for the eyes, and a pair of small holes for the nose. When Nick slipped it on, he looked terrifying. Then he tried on Johan’s old work clothes and walked around the house for an hour without saying a word. He’d stumble across the room and Helga would scream, swearing that whatever he broke, she’d take out of his savings. I played my worst game of chess ever. Every time I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, I squirmed in my seat. I think Nick grew two inches since August. He must be close to six feet five now. His voice is just as deep as Johan’s. His shoulders are wider than the fridge. He’s colossal, and yet, there’s something delicate and refined about him.

It was his seventeenth birthday on August eight. Johan gave him a car. It doesn’t work, but they’re going to fix it up together. Nick knows a lot about cars and mechanical things.

I hope Mom and I don’t encounter problems, you know, on account of us living without Dad. I don’t know if Mom knows how to change a fuse. Dad showed me where he keeps his shotgun. It isn’t loaded, so it doesn’t matter that I don’t know how to use it. “Just to scare ‘em,” he said. “Aim and scream.”

Mom’s hair is growing back, but she’s still real skinny. I don’t like it when she hugs me because I can feel her bones on my stomach.

Aunt Frannie said, “I’m going to show you how to cook. If your mom knows you made it, she’ll have to eat it.”

I don’t mind learning how to cook. I just don’t want anyone knowing about it. If JF or his friends find out that I’m spending Sunday morning baking cookies, even Boone won’t be able to stop them from torturing me. They’ve started calling me a homo, and yes Bump, I know what a homo is.

Well, I’m pretty sure I know what it is.

Jesse Chao quit the math club. Can you believe him? “I kissed a girl on her privates,” he said.

But it’s a lie of course. Boone and JF cornered him during recess and demanded to know what it looked like. Jesse said it had a pair of lips and five small holes. Boone gave Jesse a wedgie, while JF slapped his ears pink.

Boone got detention again, but JF got off with a warning. No fair.

* * * *

Dear Bump,

I really need to start using my head if I’m going to become an accountant.

I’m grounded until next Saturday. I’ve never been grounded before.

It had all started with an argument during gym.

We were playing volleyball. I don’t mind playing volleyball, but I don’t like to serve. My wrist ends up looking like a lobster tail, and I hardly ever get the ball over the net. I was lucky yesterday, because of Boone and Sebastian’s fight, I didn’t get to serve.

Boone and Sebastian have been sworn enemies since the first grade. Sebastian lives on Gordon Street, where the “decent people live,” and he constantly brags because his father owns the building. Also, on top of that, when Sebastian’s white Adidas get too dirty, his mom buys him a new pair.

Everybody hates him, but no one ever says it to his face.

Except for Boone.

Sebastian has an older brother. David. David is the same age as Nick. David and Nick are best friends. Well, they stopped talking a few weeks ago. I still haven’t figured out why. They used to share a paper run when they were my age and would spend a lot of time by the river, camping under the stars.

But then this summer, this new boy called Corbin was visiting someone on our street and somehow, David and Nick started fighting all the time. So I heard.

After that boy left, they didn’t make up. Now David goes to Loyola. It’s an all boys’ Catholic school. Nick goes to Monseigneur Richard. It’s a French public school. It’s brown and looks like a jail.

Anyway, all this to say that yesterday was the first time Nick and David spoke in weeks. I think they might be friends again. Even though Nick had to give back the car because of what he did to David’s house.

What happened was this.

Yesterday morning, in gym class, we’d been playing for ten minutes when Boone’s turn to serve came up. Him and Sebastian had both been named captain of their teams. Sebastian’s team was winning, on account of them cheating twice. Coach Angelos hadn’t caught Sebastian’s double hits (he never does for some reason), so we hadn’t gotten the points for them.

Boone’s eyes had shrunk a size and his mouth was a straight line on his face. He was going to pop his lid. “Watch this,” he said under his breath, as he passed me. Boone grabbed the ball and made his way to the back of the court. “I’ll show ‘em.”

I took my position and held my breath. I know how hard Boone can hit that ball, and somehow, I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be aiming it at the ground.

I was right.

Boone looked straight at me, bounced his eyebrows like Grouch Marx, and before I could try to reason with him, he’d tossed the ball up, slamming it over the net in a powerful jump serve. We all heard the ball as it bounced off his skin and flew across the court like a stray bullet. Boone’s aim is near perfect. It’s hardly ever off. When it landed on Sebastian’s cheek, I cringed.

Then someone whispered, “Ooh…that must have hurt.”

Of course, Sebastian had to play it up. He fell to his knees and started screaming. “My face! My face!” Coach Angelos blew his whistle and ordered Catherine to get the nurse. Sebastian only yelped louder, moaning that he couldn’t feel his face anymore.

Boone sneered. “How come it hurts then? Huh? Liar.”

I tried to keep Boone quiet. I knew Coach Angelos was going to get on his case as soon as he was done tending to Sebastian’s swollen, reddish cheek.

“Don’t s—say any—anything else,” I pleaded softly. “Tonight’s Ha—Halloween, remember?” I didn’t want Boone to get detention. We had plans to go trick or treating. This was going to be our last year. “Go ask if he’s o—okay.” I suggested in a whisper.

Boone only scoffed. “Are you crazy? No way. He had it coming.” Then he raised his voice, his words thundering through the gym. “Sebastian, you cheater! I hope your face stays like that! You should thank me. Now you don’t even need a mask for—”

“Mr. Lund.” Coach Angelos was getting to his feet. His usual warm brown eyes were sharp on Boone’s pink face. “Out you go. Change your shorts and go to Strozuk’s office.”

“But, I—”

“Now.”

Boone threw his hands up and kicked the ball across the gym. “No fair.”

As Boone went out the gym doors, Sebastian cried. “I’ll get you back for this, Boone! You and your retarded brother!”

Boone spun around. “What did you just say?” His face was white with anger.

Coach Angelos set his humongous hand on Boone’s chest. “Easy now, Lund.”

But Boone’s eyes were on Sebastian, who was still on his knees, glaring up at him. “You heard me,” Sebastian said, obviously suicidal. “Your brother’s so f*****g dumb, he can even read a license plate.”

I don’t know how Boone got past Coach Angelos, but somehow, he did. He lunged at Sebastian and fell on top of him. All I could see were Boone’s arms going up and down, and Coach trying to pull him off. “Stop it!” he kept saying to Boone, but Boone wouldn’t stop. “Don’t ever call my brother a retard! My brother’s dyslexic! You don’t even know how to spell that word!”

Later that night, after we were all safe and sound in our beds, I looked the word up in the dictionary. Dyslexia: any of various reading disorders associated with impairment of the ability to interpret spatial relationships or to integrate auditory and visual information.

I guess it means Nick can’t read or write without thinking about it for a long time. That’s probably why he always looks so serious.

Boone is suspended from school until Friday. He’s not allowed to leave his apartment until Christmas.

That’s two months. I think he got lucky.

So here I was, all dressed up in my pirate costume and no one to go trick or treating with.

Last night, Aunt Frannie helped me with my make-up and even gave me her red scarf to tie around my head. I had an eye patch, and she made a hook out of tin foil to stick inside my sleeve. I wore my black shorts and my dad’s white shirt. I was aiming to look like Long John Silver (I read Treasure Island four times since Aunt Frannie gave it to me), but when I stood in front of the mirror, all I saw was a skinny boy dressed up like a gypsy. I decided I was too old for Halloween anyway. I would stay home and help Aunt Frannie give out the candy.

Our part of the building wasn’t decorated, but the Lunds’ front yard looked like something out of the “Thriller” video. They even had creepy music and everything.

I sat on the balcony steps and watched the street.

“Why don’t you go out there with your friends?” Aunt Fran asked.

“I have a—a st—stomach ache.”

“Red, honey, you’re missing out on all the fun.” She spoke through her fake teeth. She was dressed up as a vampire. Her long red dress hung all the way down to the floor, and her wig was black and shiny. “Are you sad about Boone?”

I shrugged.

“Suit yourself, but I still think you look too darn cute to be sitting here moping around.”

Cute? I’m twelve already.

“I wanna stay.” Besides, I wanted to watch Nick and his friends.

Josh D’Amico, the toughest of the gang, wore a hockey mask and a plaid shirt. He stood quietly at the far corner of the front yard, stiff as a statue, and every time kids came up the steps, he’d lunge at them, screaming like a crazy man. Terry was dressed as a headless nun, and would grab the kids by their sleeves, and yell, “Trick or treat? Come on, what’ll it be, you little bugger!”

The kids who actually made it to the front door were finally greeted by Nick.

I liked his persona best.

Nick wore the mask he’d made and that black jump suit. The suit had a shiny zipper all along the front. His ashen blond hair was tucked under a black cowboy hat. Nick didn’t say one word. Never made a single sound. He would only drop a few candies into the courageous kid’s treat bag and nod slowly.

It was beyond creepy. It was great. Until Mrs. Lund came back with Lene. She had passed a few of our neighbors on her way home. Some of their little kids were in tears. “Nicolai!” she yelled from the sidewalk. “You stop frightening the children! Let Dad give out the candy.”