Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Entangled Tales - 14 - Justin & Jeremy
On the cold and wet Monday morning, Kathleen once again stood outside the front of the hotel with Justin, waiting for Carl and Claire to come and take him to school. She had tried to convince him that he should stay home and rest for a few days, but he was adamant. "I have missed five years of schooling, Grandmother, and that is quite enough."
The car arrived, he opened the back door, pushed in his crutches and climbed in. With a grin and a wave to his grandmother they were off. Carl glanced back over his shoulder and grinned. "This is just a 'oncer' you understand, Justin. I'm not running a taxi service here. This is just a special occasion because you broke your foot. Starting next week you can walk like everyone else, well limp anyway. Unless you want a ride that is."
"Thank you for the lift Carl, and Claire too of course. I could have walked, it doesn't hurt that much, but after all that fuss yesterday I feel much more comfortable with you both to escort me in to school."
"No problem, Sweetcheeks," said Claire. "Anytime you get on the national news two nights in a row, we'll gladly take you in to school the next day."
"I hope that was a 'oncer' as well. I hate all the fuss and attention."
However, when they arrived at the school, Justin was mortified to find that he was still a sensation. Most people seemed to want to congratulate him - and be seen to be his friend. He couldn't shake the many hands reaching out to him as he stood clutching the handles of his crutches, so they had to be content with touching and patting him about the arms and shoulders. Not everyone was greeting him though, a few of the 'tough' kids scowled and sneered or totally ignored him. The nickname 'mouse' was still heard, but many of them were changing it now to 'Mighty Mouse'.
As Justin and his escorts were making their way through the crowd he was starting to relax and enjoy the adulation and greetings, even though it was all very embarrassing. Then, walking along in front of the school, he saw a face in the crowd, the red-haired boy from the cricket match - Billy M.. - and he was not smiling. When he saw Justin looking at him, he looked him up and down with a sneer on his face. He flicked his head and walked away.
Any pleasure that Justin was finding in the whole situation suddenly went flat and he stopped and watched the kid walk away - the only person there who, if he was honest, he actually would have liked to impress.
Dee saw the dismay on his face. She followed his gaze and saw who he was looking at, then draped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him. "Don't let it get you down, Sweetie. I could say I told you so, but I won't. Just remember, when you see a Carver, think 'rat' and you won't be far wrong."
"I know, Dee. I know, but life is a bitch sometimes."
As the day wore on Justin's notoriety faded away, and by the time school finished things were pretty well back to normal - apart from the crutches of course.
After school Carl took them all around to his house where they had a drink and cookies while he changed into his running clothes. Then they went to the Square to 'hang' while Carl and Lucas did their daily run.
After a few minutes sitting there, Justin saw a group of the Carvers and some others walking past the grandstand. The red-haired Billy was among them but he didn't even look Justin's way. He seemed to be engrossed in conversation with the tall blond boy who Claire had identified as Jeremy, the 'white sheep' of the Carver family.
When they had disappeared around the corner, Justin stood up and announced that he was going home.
What's the matter, Sweetcheeks? You sick of us or something?"
"No, of course not. I just think that I should go home and rest for a while, that is all. Thank you all for your support today. I do not think I could have faced all that without you."
"No problem, Justin. That's what friends are for. You go and rest the foot and we'll see you tomorrow."
Dee said, "I'll come up and drive you to school tomorrow. You be outside waiting at 0830 hours, okay?"
"Thank you Dee, but you do not have to do that."
"I know, but I want to. It'll be a good excuse to get Dad's car for the day anyway. You be there waiting."
Claire asked, "Do you want a ride home now? I've got Carl's keys."
"No, thank you. I 'm fine. The hotel is just around the corner, I can walk a couple of hundred meters. I'm not a cripple you know."
"Well you bloody nearly were, or worse. Walk home then if you're going to be stubborn. See you tomorrow, Sweetcheeks."
"Yes. Tomorrow. Goodbye my friends, I love you all, you know." And with that conversation stopper, he swung away on his crutches and disappeared around the corner.
"Aww, Geeze, Justin," Shelley said to the empty space. "You don't go around saying things like that."
"Why not?" asked Claire. "If that's what he's thinking, why not say it?"
"Because you just don't that's why - telling people that you love them, it's, well it's soppy and it's embarrassing."
Dee said, "I think that he's gone through embarrassing and right out the other side in the last couple of days. Yes it's soppy, but it felt good too, didn't it?"
Claire agreed, "It felt good. And he's right too. I love you guys too, you're the best friends I've ever had."
Dee grinned, "We're the only friends you've ever had, Honey. But, yeah, we love you too."
Shelley shrugged, "Okay, okay, I give in. Everybody loves everybody, right? And I do love that Justin too. Lucas was right, there's a shining star inside all that camouflage. I think that we're only just starting to see him."
Dee said, "A shining star's right. What did he have to go and be gay for, dammit!"
"He didn't choose to be gay, Dee. You don't choose it any more than you chose to have curly hair."
"I didn't choose to have curly hair. Curly hair sucks."
"Well being gay - - okay, let's not go there girls."
Tuesday morning Justin rode to school with Dee. After school he started off to walk home, but was picked up by Gaylene Craddock. Dulcie was delighted to see her friend again. When they stopped outside the hotel he thanked Gaylene for the ride. She replied, "It's a pleasure, Justin. What time do you go in the mornings? We could come and pick you up each day."
"No. Thank you Ma'am. That is nice of you but I need to walk if I am going to recover. I need the exercise. My friends offered to drive me as well, but I really want to walk."
"Okay Justin. But if you change your mind just let me know. My number's in the book."
"Thank you, Ma'am. And thank you again for the ride. Goodbye Dulcie, stay safe."
"Goodbye Justin, you're a prince."
"No I'm not. I am just me."
On Thursday morning he walked to school as he had insisted, and without the crutches. Lucas and Shelley walked with him but he wouldn't let them carry his books. As the day went on it was obvious that the 'Tall Poppy' syndrome was alive and well in Westpoint. Anyone who grew taller than the crowd needed to be cut down to size. Even many of those who had applauded him earlier were now sharing cruel jokes and jeers about the mouse that roared.
The building tension finally came to a head at the end of the lunch hour. Claire, Carl and Lucas came in to the locker room just in time to see Justin go down, sprawling across the floor while several large youths laughed mockingly over him. Claire's temper flared and she rushed to his rescue.
"Fuck off Stephens! And you Taylor, and you Johnson. Fucking big men you are, ganging up on a defenseless sick kid. Your mothers would be so proud of you. Why don't you try it on with me? I'll kick your bloody arses!"
The three looked from Claire to Carl and Lucas looming up behind her, and they backed off. "Fucking little baby mouse, always hiding behind the big butch girls."
They walked away and Claire, still angry, turned on Justin who was on his knees gathering together his scattered books. "And as for you Justin Reynolds, you make me sick! Those goons are right, you're fucking pathetic! Next time I won't be around to save you. When are you going to stop being a big girl's blouse and bloody well stand up for yourself? You're pathetic!"
He rose to his feet looking at her. "Claire - - I - -"
"Just shut up Justin. You weren't scared of a bloody great 30 tonne coal truck. Why do you let a pack of hairy-arsed schoolboys push you around?"
He looked from her to the two blank faced boys standing behind her, then turned to the noise of another ruckus happening down at the far end of the locker room. Stevens, Taylor and Johnson, along with two more young thugs, were laying into Jeremy Carver.
He pushed his pile of books at Lucas, "Hold these for me." Then he ran down the long room, his feet going step-clunk-step-clunk.
Reaching them he pivoted on the rocker on his injured foot and booted between the shoulders of the youth who had just flung Jeremy to the floor. The boy, Graeme Johnson, flew forward, smashed his head into the wall of lockers, and slid down to lay prone on the floor.
Justin stood, hands clenched at his sides, his lungs dragging in all the air they could contain. "Enough!" he snarled. "Now try me, you bullying bastards. Who's next?"
"You're dead Reynolds. You're fucking dead meat!" The four advanced on him and several others seeing the opportunity came rushing in to join in the fight. Carl and Lucas both ran forward to help him, but stopped and stared as Justin exploded!
Arms and legs, fists and feet, knees and elbows, hips and head all became striking, stabbing weapons as he danced and spun through the centre of the mob. Like the detached head of a windmill in a hurricane he span and struck out in silent fury. In a very short time he stood alone in a half-crouch in the centre of the cleared area, angrily surveying the bodies around him.
Several of those who had been rushing in to join in the beating, were now retreating as fast as they could go. Some were crawling away. Four unconscious youths lay around him, and five others lay there moaning and whimpering. Apart from them there was stunned silence in the crowded room.
Justin straightened up and stood tall and proud, the very picture of a victorious warrior. Then, seeing no foes left to conquer, he shrugged and dropped down on one knee beside Jeremy.
"How are you, Jeremy? Where does it hurt the most?"
"It's mostly my pride I think. What's left of it." He grimaced and started to struggle to his feet. Justin stood to help him up.
He glared around him and said, "Fucking bullies! I hate fucking bullies."
Jeremy grinned up at him and replied, "You shouldn't fuck them then." As he straightened up, Justin laughed, flung his arms around him and hugged him.
Billy Mathieson came running into the locker room and slid to a stop before them. He grabbed Jeremy's arm and pulled while glaring at Justin. "Get your fucking hands off my cousin. What do you think you're doing? You fucking weirdo!"
"Billy, cut it out," said Jeremy. "He's on our side, Cus. Justin just saved my arse. Look around you, he did all that. He's not the enemy, he's a good guy Billy."
"Oh. Sorry," said Billy looking around. "You did all this? Umm, thanks I guess. C'mon Jeremy let's get the hell out of here." He led Jeremy away, one arm around his shoulders, and they forgot all about his books and stuff scattered around on the floor. Justin knelt down and started gathering them together. Claire and the others came running over to him.
"Bloody Hell, Justin! Where did that come from?"
He looked up at her, grinned, and said the words that would become legend in the town.
"First know your enemy. Second, take them by surprise and third, hit them hard."
Dee knelt down to help by picking up the scattered pens and pencils. "I never thought I'd be picking up a Carver's stuff for him. But if it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me."
Claire and Carl both bent to help. The books and stuff were all collected together when Mrs. Lowry and two other staff members came hurrying in. "Justin, go to my office and wait for me there."
He looked at Dee and said, "Would you see that this stuff gets to Jeremy Carver please."
"I'm not going anywhere near the Carver's house."
"I'll take them," said a dark haired girl coming forward. "I'm Billy's sister, Jeremy's my cousin too. I'll see that he gets his books. Thanks Justin."
"Justin Reynolds, to my office please - Now!"
"I am going, Ma'am. There are several broken bones here. That one's ribs, that one's wrist, his arm, and possibly his skull. Brad Stevens has a dislocated shoulder, but I do not think that anything is broken, not this time." He walked away, collecting his own books from Lucas as he passed him.
One hour later, after Mrs. Lowry had finally returned to her office and interviewed him, the door opened and Justin came out. Claire, Dee, and Shelley, Carl, Lucas, Jay and Peter were all there waiting for him.
"Justin? You okay, Sweetcheeks? What did she say?"
"I have to go home now. I have been suspended for seven days."
Suspended?" spluttered Dee. "She can't do that. What are you suspended for?"
"Mrs. Lowry is the principal here, Dee, and she can do that. She has to. Mrs. Lowry said that personally she approves of my thrashing those bullying thugs, but I went too far and officially she must disapprove of fighting on school premises. Therefore I am suspended for this week and all of next week. I do not mind, at least I was not expelled again."
Claire - "You might not mind, Sweetie, but we do. She can't just suspend you. You didn't start anything. What about all the others involved?'
"That is for Mrs. Lowry to decide. It does not matter anyway, I suspect that my school days are over in any case. Please everybody, go back to your classes. I have to go, my grandfather is coming to take me home."
Dee growled, "No, dammit! There's no justice here. We should start a strike. Everyone in this school is sick of those fucking bullies. They can't punish you for doing something about it."
Peter said, "Wait up, Dee, everyone. Justin, what do you mean, you suspect your schooldays are over? Why do you?"
"I am not well. My illness - I think that it has flared up again. I have had a headache ever since waking on Sunday and it has been getting progressively worse. I hope that I am wrong, maybe a few days complete bed rest in the dark will settle things down, but I fear that it has resurfaced. I will probably not have the stamina to survive another reoccurrence."
"Justin, in plain English, what are you saying? What does that mean - to survive another reoccurrence? Is that what I think you're saying?"
"Lucas, my friend, I am saying that I'm probably going to die. I have avoided it for years now, but sooner or later it is going to happen. I think that it might be sooner now, the coal truck might win yet. But not if I can help it. I must go home now."
They walked out with him to where his grandfather was waiting. Claire clutched his arm, "Go to the hospital, Justin. There must be something they can do for you."
"There is nothing they can do. I think that there is nobody who knows this sickness better that I do and I cannot fix it. I have tried, but I can't. If I am going to die, I want to do it in my home."
He looked into the car and said, "Thank you for coming, Grandfather. I am sorry about all this trouble. Goodbye my friends please come and see me when you can. Nothing is going to happen immediately. Go back to school now and be the best you can. I love you all."
He got into the car and they drove away. The friends stood and watched it go, several of them were holding on to each other. Dee sniffed and said, "It's still not right that he was suspended. I don't care what he says, it's just not fair - and I'm going to tell her too."
Jay agreed, "A petition. We should start a petition. Everyone would sign it and they couldn't ignore that."
In the car Bob was asking for Justin's version of what had happened, but he shut him up saying, "I am not well, Granddad. My head hurts, it really hurts. I need to go home and lie down. I will tell you and Grandmother about it all later."
"Okay, don't worry about it, Justin. Are you sure you wouldn't rather go to the hospital?"
"No Sir. I want to go home to my own room."
Back at the hotel, Justin and Bob walked into the kitchen.
"Justin, my baby! Are you all right? They said you were in a fight."
"It was not a fight, Grandmother. It was just a beating. But I am not all right, I must go and lie down before I fall down. Please excuse me." He scurried through the kitchen and went out into the hallway.
Kathleen, standing there with her hands covered in dough, turned to Bob and demanded, "What does he mean it was a beating? Have those little sods hurt him?"
"No, it wasn't them, apparently he's had a headache ever since Sunday - it's his sickness I'm afraid. The beating was what he gave them not what they gave him. He's basically beaten up the school's first-fifteen rugby team from what I can gather." Bob followed after Justin to make sure that he was managing.
"Justin beat up the first fifteen?" said Connors "No, I can't believe he'd do that."
Kathleen quickly cleaned up her hands and hurried upstairs to Justin's room. He was lying on his back, across the bed with both feet still on the floor. Bob stood there looking helplessly at him.
"Justin, Honey, what can we do for you? Do you want a doctor? I'll get Reuben Miller."
"No. No doctor thank you. He will probably still be busy in Casualty anyway - I sent them some more business." A small grin crossed his face, "Fuckin' bullies. I have had enough of them."
Kathleen knelt and removed the shoe from his good foot, then swung his legs around and up on to the bed. She slid the duvet out from under him and covered him up. "You just rest quietly there for a while. Are you absolutely sure that you don't want a doctor?"
"No, Ma'am. There is nothing that he could do. Painkillers do not work, only morphine could help and I am not having that until the end. I will try to sleep for a while, and then we can talk. Would you please close the drapes on the windows."
Kathleen did that, then she leant over and kissed his forehead. "Rest a while then, my boy. Ring the kitchen when you wake up."
He sighed and whispered, "I do not want to die, Grandmother. I don't want to die."
Several hours later the quiet group of people gathered around the kitchen table were startled by the sudden ringing of the telephone. Kathleen snatched it up. "Hello. Justin, is that you? Oh, hello boy, you're awake. I'll be right there. Do you want anything?"
She looked around the group there. "He's awake now I'll go and see him. Wait here." And she hurried up to his room.
Sergeant Digby of the Westpoint Police said, "Well, girls, I'll need to have a chat with Justin if he's up to it. Then I'd like you all to come around to the station to give us your statements. If what you say is correct, I think that we should be able to get these charges dropped."
Dee replied, "I should bloody well hope so, Digby. Charging Justin with aggravated assault - that's ridiculous! He's not the bully here, he was just fighting back, and it's about time somebody did."
"So you said, Dee. We're certainly not short of witnesses anyway, but the parents of some of those boys were adamant that they want charges laid. I'll talk to Justin, and then - -"
The telephone rang again and Connors leaned across and picked it up, "Hello, Betty Connors speaking...Well of course it's Adelphi Hotel, Boss - this was an internal call, the phone gives a different ring. How's Justin doing?"
"Okay, Mr. Policeman, they're waiting to see you now. Upstairs, third door on the left, and don't you go upsetting him." Digby walked out and Connors continued, "As soon as he's done, you can go up girls."
After a long half-hour, Digby came back and told the girls that Justin was waiting to see them, so they went up to his room. However, his protective grandmother only allowed them a few minutes before she started herding them out. "He said that he needs to rest quietly, and that's just what he'll do. It's good that you're all concerned about him, but a constant stream of visitors will do him no good at all."
As they were about to leave, Justin suddenly sat up straight in the bed. "Girls, Claire, Shelley, Dee, I, umm, the school has rejected me, half the town hates me now and the police want to lock me up. But it doesn't matter - it just doesn't matter any more. I do not want to make a big speech, but, I do want you to know... if I don't...If I'm not... These last few weeks have been the best. These days have been what I have always wished what my life could be and you are the friends that I have always wished for. Please think of me sometimes and enjoy your lives here over the rainbow. Please tell the boys 'thank you' for me also." And he sank back on to his pillows with one arm crooked across his face..
The three girls cried all the way home. Friday he spent most of the day sleeping in his darkened room. Saturday it was much the same.
The scheduled curtain-raiser at the Square by the school's first-fifteen rugby team had to be cancelled as more than half the team were not fit to play. In the afternoon when Bob looked in on him, Justin was sitting up in bed with the light turned on. He was leafing through a school exercise book, the pages of which were covered in his small neat handwriting.
"Hello Boy. Are you feeling better then?"
"A little, Granddad, a little better. I think that I should eat some dinner tonight."
"That's good, Justin. That's really good. What would you like? What's your favourite food?"
"Anything really. Whatever you are having will be fine. Grandmother and Connors are good cooks aren't they?"
"Yes they are. They're the best. What have you got there? You needn't worry about schoolwork at the moment you know."
"This is not schoolwork, Sir. This is my notes on Kajinski's syndrome, my attempt at curing it. I feel that I was close to an answer, but obviously, not close enough." He put the book away in the drawer of his bedside cabinet and lay back with a sigh. "It was all just a dream - a complete waste of time. I'm sorry to be such a bother to everyone. Grandfather, would you please ask Doctor Miller to make sure that he has morphine available, I think that I may need it soon."
Bob almost cried himself on his way back to the kitchen.
All day Sunday he lay quietly in his room. He had an occasional drink of heavily sweetened orange juice, but was not at all interested in food. His grandparents and Dr. Miller all feared that it would just be a matter of time - he was slowly fading away. There was, as Kathleen had predicted, a constant stream of visitors, but she would not allow anyone, except Claire and Lucas, to go up to his room. Mrs. Lowry and Mrs. Burston were there, along with Tom Craddock, Paul Jamieson, Marcie Sheridan, and it seemed like half the town passing through. The Reynolds loved their boy, but they hadn't realised how much of an impression he had made on so many others.
The atmosphere in the hotel was quiet and somber. Most everyone thought, but nobody said, that they were just waiting for the boy to die. Yesterday's hero was quietly slipping away. The applause and congratulations of last week were just bitter-sweet memories now.
But, on Monday morning there seemed to have been an amazing change for the better overnight. When Kathleen looked in on him before going downstairs at six o'clock, he was sitting up in bed with the light on, reading his notebook again, with the radio tuned to the local radio station.
"Good Morning, my lovely boy. You're looking good - are you feeling better this morning then?"
"Good morning, Grandmother. I am much better today, thank you. The headache is still there, but nowhere near as bad as yesterday. I think that I might come down for some breakfast today."
"You certainly will not, Justin. You'll stay right where you are and I'll bring your breakfast to you. It's so good to see you looking better. Keep it up and you'll be running again in no time at all. I'll go and get my coffee in me, and I'll bring your breakfast up. I'm so pleased that you're hungry, it's a worry when you don't eat."
She got halfway down the stairs, then ran back up to ask what he wanted to eat - toast with marmalade, cereal with tinned peaches, and lots of orange juice.
In the kitchen she headed first to the coffee percolator. Connors greeted her, "Morning Boss. From the smile on your dial, I'd say that Justin must be feeling better?"
"Good Morning Connors. Yes, he is much better. He's sitting up and reading and has got the radio on. Yesterday I wouldn't have given two pins for him, but today he's looking much better. He might beat this thing yet. He wants some breakfast too."
"Well that's good news. What can we feed him? I could do a steak with mushrooms maybe?"
"No. Connors, I have my instructions - toast and cereal with orange juice, lots of orange juice. We don't want to feed him more than he can handle."
Justin ate his breakfast under the supervision of his grandparents, then he turned off the light to rest for a while. He slept a couple of hours, and then woke again. At about 10.00am., Kathleen was going through to the front door to collect the morning's mail, when she saw Justin, fully dressed, slowly making his way downstairs.
"Justin Jonathan Reynolds! What do you think you're doing? You get right back up to your bed young man!"
"I need some of the encyclopedias, Grandmother. I was just coming to get them."
"I told you to phone if you wanted anything, Justin. Which ones do you want? I'll bring them to you."
"Volumes 14, 2 and 9, Ma'am. Thank you, but I could get them myself now."
"No, you could not - go back to bed and I'll bring them to you. 14, 2, and 9."
He returned to his room and lay, fully clothed, on his bed reading his notes and the encyclopedias. Bob looked in to check on him at lunchtime and he was asleep again. So he turned off the light and left him to it with the radio playing quietly beside him.
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