Russell's Book of Secrets Page 7

  “Why don’t you go play foursquare over there with the girls, gay boy?” he spits at me.

  The entire team looks at me and I hear several of them agree. “Fine. Forget it,” I say as I walk off the field.

  I make my way to a secluded corner of the playground and sit in the shade underneath a huge tree. The tears are falling from my eyes before I make it to my destination. I wipe them away with the back of my hand as I sit on the ground at the base of the tree. When I sit, I feel something poke my thigh. I reach into my pocket and pull my two Power Ranger action figures out and smile. I forgot they were in there.

  I sit quietly and play by myself. As the minutes roll by, I replay the events from earlier in my head and embarrassment sets in. What was I thinking? I can’t believe I thought that I would fit in with those jerks. The recess bell tolls and after the sound of the ringing dissipates, I hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the tree. I turn to see Tyrone and William approaching me. I remain seated and stare at them as they walk up to me. Maybe they’re here to apologize.

  “See, that’s why I didn’t want you on my team in the first place,” says William. “You’re over here playing with your dolls where you should have been in the first place.”

  Tyrone laughs in agreement.

  “They’re not dolls,” I say as I look them in their faces.

  Tyrone reaches down and snatches the action figures from my hands. “Looks like dolls to me,” he says and then he throws them over the fence into the woods behind the playground.

  “Why did you do that?” I ask, standing from my place at the base of the tree. Those are my favorite toys and now they are gone. I can’t tell Charlene because I will surely get in trouble, seeing as how I’m not allowed to bring toys to school.

  My breathing becomes labored and I ball my hands into fists as I stare at the two bullies who are laughing hysterically until they see how angry I am. I look from William to Tyrone. I don’t know what I’m thinking standing up to them like this. There’s no way I could beat them in a fight. They are much taller, heavier, and stronger than me. They can easily toss me over the fence to be with my Power Rangers with one hand behind their backs.

  Tyrone looks behind him as all the other kids are filing back into the school. He turns around with a grin and our eyes meet. My nostrils flare and I feel my nails digging into my palms. He steps toward me and I take a half-step backwards and look up at him. I don’t even notice him move until I feel his fingers grip around my throat and I’m gasping for air. Amidst the ringing in my ears, I can hear William laughing in the background.

  Tyrone lifts me off the ground by my throat and pushes my body against the tree. I try kicking him but it’s no use. My hands grip his as they tighten around my throat. I catch a glimpse of the madness in his eyes before mine begin to roll back in my head. I try to scream but the sound can’t escape from my mouth. I just kick and struggle, hoping that it will be over soon.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” William says as he approaches and tries to free me from Tyrone’s kung-fu grip. “We’re gonna get in trouble. We need to get back to the classroom.”

  Tyrone drops me to the ground and I come down hard, scraping my knee on an exposed tree root. I cough and grasp at my throat, desperate to refill my lungs with oxygen.

  “You better keep your little gay ass away from me,” Tyrone sneers before they walk away.

  I’m crying at this point and sitting at the base of the tree. I know I should go back to class but I don’t care. I don’t know how long I sit there and listen to the sounds of birds chirping and watching squirrels as they run back and forth along the tree branches. It must have been a long time because soon Mrs. Wilkins leans next to me and places a concerned hand on my shoulder. I still don’t move.

  “Russell, what are you doing out here alone? The recess bell rang fifteen minutes ago.”

  Devoid of all expression, I look at her and then back at the woods. I want to jump over the fence and just run away.

  “Are you okay?” she asks. “What happened to your knee?”

  “Nothing,” I say as I stand and brush the dirt and grass from my clothes.

  Mrs. Wilkins looks at me as if she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t care. “Let’s get you to the nurse and so you can get cleaned up,” she says.

  * * *

  I step off the school bus and walk to the small brick house on the corner of Harris and Pine Street. The roar of the engine fills my ears as the bus travels down the street and fades into the distance. I walk around to the back of the house and up the steps to the backdoor. I can hear the sounds of Charlene inside making dinner in the kitchen. The television is blaring and pots and pans clang together loudly. I knock softly at the door and moments later her image appears behind the screen.

  “Hi Russell,” she says as she unlocks the screen door and rubs the back of my head while I walk inside. “How was your day?”

  “Okay,” I say as I maintain my pace straight to my bedroom. I don’t want her to start asking me questions about the scrapes and bruises on my arms and knees.

  As I change out of my school clothes, I think about what happened earlier today. Tyrone and William called me gay and a faggot. I don’t even know what those words mean. I entertain the idea of talking to Charlene about it.

  I finish dressing and walk back into the kitchen. Charlene turns from washing dishes at the sink when she hears the bar stool slide from the edge of the counter. With several labored grunts, I rise to the top of the stool and sit down, placing my hands on the counter and looking at Charlene.

  “Hey there,” she says with a smile.

  “Hi,” I return the smile. “What are you making?” I ask, unable to ask the question to which I really wanted an answer.

  “Shepherd’s Pie. It’s going to be delicious if I do say so myself.” She walks to the stove, opens the oven, and takes a big whiff of the dish cooking inside. It does smell delicious.

  “What does it mean to be gay and a faggot?” I ask while staring down at the counter. I hear the oven slam shut and when I lift my head, Charlene is staring at me.

  “Where did you hear those words?” she asks.

  “At school,” I answer.

  She places her hands on her hips and shifts her weight to one leg. “Where at school?”

  “Some of the other boys called me that today,” I say in embarrassment.

  Charlene walks to my side of the bar and sits on the stool next to me. “Baby, don’t worry about them. Children can be very cruel. They picked at me when I was your age too. You are most certainly not gay. God didn’t make you that way.”

  “But what is it?” I ask in frustration.

  “Gay means that you like boys.”

  I sit in silence while this new information processes. I look at Charlene and her facial expression denotes the seriousness of the conversation.

  “You are not gay, do you hear me?”

  “Yes ma’am,” I reply.

  “The Bible says that ‘man shall not lie with man.’ That is an abomination and I know for a fact that my child has not been cursed like that.”

  I don’t understand everything but I feel comfort in the fact that Charlene is not convinced that I’m gay. If being gay means that I have to deal with what Tyrone and William put me through at school today, I’m not so sure that I would ever want to be gay. Who would want that willingly?

  Charlene stands from her seat, kisses me on the forehead, and returns to the sink. I slide from my stool and head back to my room. The new information sinks into my brain. “I’m not gay,” I whisper to myself.

  END RUSSELL

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TERRY J. BENTON, a debut novelist lives in Atlanta, GA. His first novel, Prelude To An Empire, can be purchased in print and digital format at Amazon.com or https://www.createspace.com/3954005. For more information about Terry and his work, please visit https://www.tjbent
on.com.

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