Chapter 29: Biff Number Four

Friday, April 8, 2005

I leaped out of bed in the morning, eager for breakfast, as usual. I was at the table before I remembered that we needed to have someone on centering duty. #3 was picked as #2 had been on the last duty last night.

While eating I concentrated on my proximity sense, to see if I could still detect Mom and Dad when they were in range. Yep, no problems. Their individual 'colors' were unchanged from last evening, which was something I'd wondered about yesterday.

[Initially my proximity sense was difficult to use, so I ignored it most of the time. When I wanted to use it, I'd briefly shut my eyes to block out the visual distractions. Over several days I got better at 'reading' the new sense. Soon I could leave my eyes open while I concentrated fairly hard on reading it. After some more days it steadily became just another sense. Your smell, hearing and sight don't conflict with each other; and nor did my proximity sense once I got used to it (admittedly the sight of a girl in a low-cut top has been known to distract me from my conversation, but those are two special cases). After two or three weeks, I could use all my senses, including proximity, all the time and without any problems (becoming distracted by seeing girls in low-cut tops is NOT a "problem").]

Dad reminded me to get the list of phone numbers from Julia, which reminded me to grab my phone too, although I hadn't gotten around to reading any further in the manual than the initial charging instructions.

The car ride was normal, Donna mentioning that she had a game after school, so not to wait for her when we came home.

Julia met us at school, giving Carol and me copies of the phone numbers.

We went together to our first class with Julia attached to my left arm as normal.

A brand new sense and having telekinesis were incredible developments, even with their both having limitations: proximity had only a three-foot range, my TK was very weak and I dared not risk revealing it in public. Another limitation was that both were totally dependent on my being centered, which was a problem because I could very easily imagine that in any interesting situation, the very first thing that would happen would be my losing center yet again. I DEFINITELY had to get better at holding center.

Plus I wanted to practice at proximity and TK. "Practice makes perfect" is something both Mom and Dad have been known to tell me from time to time, and a few extra times too. I wanted to increase the range of proximity because three feet measured from my center wasn't very far at all. I also wanted to increase my TK force because it was very weak, at what felt like about ten pounds. I very much wanted it to be about twenty times stronger. (Can you guess my main reason? It's mentioned later.)

Practicing my proximity sense was easy, as it was automatically active whenever I was centered. I practiced TK by continually pushing as hard as I could against the ground or walls, pathetically weak as that was.

Another reason I wanted to work on these new ki abilities was the hope that I might discover new ones. It seemed unlikely that I'd discovered everything there was to discover in the first five minutes after learning how to center myself. On the other hand, proximity and TK might be the only ki abilities there are. I didn't know, but I was going to experiment and keep my eyes open for anything interesting, especially for something that allowed me to keep more eyes open inside the girls' shower room.

So I had the best (for a teenage boy) motivation to keep center during school. Despite that motivation, #4 lost center three times before the first class even started, and once during the class too. There was just so much going on around us that it was too easy for something to catch his attention.

My first class's teacher asking a question that only #4 knew the answer to didn't help either. He tried to hold center while answering the question, but he and the teacher got into a conversation and he lost it. We decided that when the person on duty had to participate, then the duty mind would try to hold center, but the next mind (#1 in this case as we use a wrap-around sequence) would also start concentrating on holding center too, as a backstop. We wanted to get GOOD at this, so good that we NEVER lost our center, and we knew we had to develop tactics for handling distractions.

We swapped duty midway through the first class, and #1 had a failure almost immediately after he went on duty. After that he was fine, not failing again. It just required a slightly different attitude to ignore school stuff. It's usually pretty easy to ignore teachers, but everything else that's going on and internal thoughts can be distracting.

I had PE next, and finished it a little early to go meet Julia at her locker. Walking down the crowded hallway toward Julia's locker felt GREAT! Not because Julia was missing - I normally love her holding on to my arm - but for an entirely different reason, #2: <Do you guys feel different, in the way we are walking?>

#4: <Yeah. I feel more graceful, even as if we're dancing, or like we're in the zone and weaving through lots of defenders in a soccer game.>

Being centered and with our proximity sense going meant we could move through the crowd MUCH better. We avoided collisions when we sensed someone about to move into our path, we flitted through gaps easier, and generally just 'flowed' along smoother (that's both what happened and how it felt). Without Julia restricting my movement, I could flow freely down the hallway, and it felt very nice.

#3: <This is the same as when Sensei walked around the mats when all the students were paired up and practicing. He moved gracefully and rarely had a collision even though the students were rolling every which way around him. He avoided them like we are now. The old guy in the video that Donna showed us moved similarly. Cool that we can do it, and cool that Sensei can too.>

I stopped feeling "cool" when I got to Julia's locker. A football-jersey-wearing slab of meat was leaning on her locker and he had a paw wrapped around one of Julia's upper-arms. She was trying to pull away, but he wasn't allowing it.

#3: <Who is the best of us at being centered? #1 I think, you agree?>

We all agreed.

#3: <Right, #1 you're on duty. This is important; DON'T get distracted. Leave Biff#4 to us, okay?>

#1: <Yes. Get the bastard good, guys!>

I stopped several feet away and called out loudly, "What's going on here?"

Biff#4 turned and looked at me, "Get lost, runt. You're not allowed anywhere near us."

#2: <"WE'RE not allowed anywhere near THEM"! It's them that aren't allowed near us! Is this guy a moron?>

#4: <He's wearing a football jersey.>

[Until we discovered the need to have someone on centering duty we nearly always shared our internal communications fully, sending our messages to the other three minds. There were a few exceptions, such as #3 and #4 discussing driving issues without bothering the others with them, but generally we shared everything. But none of us wanted to distract #1 now, so he was excluded from our communication. We'd started doing that shortly after we invented the "On Duty" job, and you should understand that excluding the on-duty mind was now our standard operating procedure for internal conversations.]

"Julia, what's he doing to you?"

"He's insisting I go on a date with him, and he won't let my arm go until I agree. He's hurting me. He says I'm too pretty to be wasted on you. He's got no idea how wonderful you are. A million of him wouldn't be worth your spit."

#4: <She not in too much trouble if she's got time to compliment us. We need to think what to do. I'm a bit reluctant to destroy his eyeballs because it'd be difficult to explain.>

#2: <We need to get him to let go of Julia and come after us.>

#3: <Agreed. Make him attack us, and let him hit us too.>

#4: <Huh? That's not one of your better plans.>

#3: <If we just TK his nuts, he'll come back another day. Especially because our nut-punching force is so weak it probably won't do more than distract him. We don't want him to come back with Biffs #5 and #6 helping him. We have to get him expelled and preferably arrested too. These Biffs have only got tiny attention spans, so we need to make them go away. What's a few more punches compared to the hundreds we've received over the years, especially if it makes school safer for Julia.>

#4: <I agree to everything, especially that last point. Let's do it. Leave it to me, I've got a good idea.>

I called out, "Julia, start struggling as hard as you can to get away. Go!"

Julia started screaming and kicking, pulling her trapped arm as hard as she could and punching him with her free hand. Of course, his being a moronic slab of meat and probably more than three times as massive as Julia meant her efforts were completely ineffective, except that they distracted Biff for a few seconds.

When he looked back at me, I was holding up my open cellphone as if I was filming him. It wasn't even turned on, and I didn't know whether it had a camera or not, but I figured Biff didn't know any better either.

Biff was clearly puzzled. Doubtless because in his world the only answer to any problem is to run into it. He knew I had a problem with him, so my not attacking him was incomprehensible.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm filming you assaulting my girlfriend. I'm going to take this to the police and you'll be expelled from school and spend the next five years in jail." I would have said a higher, scarier number of years, but I suspected he might be unfamiliar with really big numbers, like six.

It took him a while, but he eventually worked out that this was not good. He dropped Julia and advanced on me. "Give me that phone."

#3: <Does he really expect us to do that? Why even ask? He must be stupid, {snigger}.>

With proximity telling me of his intention to grab me with his right hand, it was very easy to move out of its way before it reached me. Then when he tried to cut in front of me, I changed direction and ducked around someone else in the hallway. There was a substantial crowd of watchers by now, and I ducked in and around them. I knew how he and they were going to move (those within three feet of me, or with intentions that passed that close to me), giving my existing athleticism a large boost. This was sweet! I could've stayed out of the stupid ox's reach all day.

He lumbered after me, ineffectually every time. I closed my phone and put it in my left pocket while he was watching me do so. There were several more seconds of my avoiding him, with more and more of the spectators laughing at him.

#4: <As easy and fun as this is, remember we have to let him catch us. He might not get expelled for holding Julia's arm, but he'll certainly get arrested for punching us. The police have warned him already, and our IQ score guarantees our assailants get special treatment. Let him catch us, or we might run out of time if a teacher comes soon.>

#3: <Reluctantly agreed.>

So the next time he came at me, I stumbled and he got hold of my left arm. He pulled me in closer and started throwing solid punches at my torso. He was most definitely within my proximity range, so I sensed the punches coming and twisted to make them glance off me so they didn't hurt nearly as much as they would have otherwise. It was fantastic that I could do that even though his punching fist was out of my sight.

While we were jostling around, he wrenched my left arm painfully. #2: <For God's sake, don't let him break that arm. I'm sick to death of this damned cast already.>

#4: <I'm going to let him keep hitting us while we can handle it. I want all the spectators to see that we didn't fight back. If we get in too much trouble we'll three-mind TK-punch his balls, or maybe half-poke an eyeball so it hurts but doesn't burst. Okay?>

#3: <Can't say I love your plan, but what the heck. Maybe the morons will get the message after this one.>

Biff punched me with his free hand a few more times, but when those didn't incapacitate me he changed to try to get the phone out of my pocket. Even though I was held, I could still dance around enough to make that too hard for him. He needed both his hands to hold me still enough to make my pocket accessible, but that left him with no spare hand to grab the phone with. Every time he got me immobile, then let go with one hand, I was able to start twisting around too much. The frustration of two being less than three was obvious on his face.

He eventually worked out an effective tactic: he picked me up, turned me horizontal, and threw me onto the floor.

#1, #2, #3, #4: <Ouch, that hurt!>

#2: <BACK ON DUTY, #1!>

Biff knelt on me in the opposite orientation, so he had one knee on my chest, that leg extended over my face, and his hands were trying to find out which pocket I had put the phone in. He'd seen me put it in, but my lying flat and his facing the other way clearly confounded his ability to work out where my left side was now.

I had a clear line of sight to his crotch, as his legs were split apart. I was debating whether now was a good time to TK-punch his balls: Was there enough evidence for the police yet? Was the phone in danger of being broken? When would a teacher get here? Would TK-punching his balls have enough force to hurt him?

Then I hear a loud, authoritative, teacher-voice yell, "STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!"

The only thing I was doing was looking at Biff's balls, admittedly covered but nonetheless not pleasant to contemplate, so I was happy to stop.

One good thing about jocks - probably the only good thing - is that they're used to following orders. I guess because of the years of football drills, and their not actually having any brains of their own.

"STAND UP!"

Of necessity, I let Biff get up first, then stood myself. I did a mental check of my body, finding nothing too badly hurt. I'd had many worse beatings before, so I was quite happy with myself. We sent a quick <Well done> to #1.

I turned to the large audience and asked, "Do any of you have a cellphone?"

One guy near me said, "Yes."

I asked, "Can I borrow it please?"

He opened it and offered it to me.

I said, "Hang on a second please, I have to look up a number." I pulled out my wallet and started extracting the card one of the detectives had given me back when I was interviewed in the hospital. I'd kept it just in case. This was a "case".

The teacher (I didn't know him) told me to, "Stop what you're doing. I'll take care of this."

I looked him in the eye and said, "This is the fourth time I've been assaulted by the school's football team in the last two weeks, the last time breaking my arm and sending me to the hospital. Six of them have been arrested, spent time in jail, and have their trial coming up shortly. It's been in the papers, so I doubt you've missed it. My parents seriously considered suing the school at that time, but chose not to despite several lawyers calling them and begging for the job. Now yet another one of the school's football team has assaulted me on school grounds, so I'm calling the police to report it. If you attempt to stop me I'll tell the police you did so and I'll have the school sued for deliberately creating a violent football team and then attempting to cover up their criminal behavior and for preventing the reporting of a crime. I appreciate that you stopped the assault, but leave it to the police now."

He wisely said nothing. Definitely a smart idea, I thought.

I added, "I suggest you send someone to fetch the Principal. He's going to need to know about this because the school is going to be in a whole heap of trouble now."

While the teacher was finding a student to go do this - none of them wanted to leave as this was the best fun they'd had all day - I found the number for the police station. After getting some help from the owner of the phone (I'm not very technically adept, and don't appreciate that every cellphone works differently), I placed the call. The detective wasn't in, so I just talked to whoever took this type of call.

Julia had walked around to stand beside me and put her arm around me. I noticed that she had a substantial collection of bruises on her arm from where Biff had squeezed it. She was obviously fine, but I reported TWO assaults.

When I ended that call and handed his phone back, the guy asked me, "Why didn't you use your phone?"

I couldn't help answering quite loudly, "I only got it last night. I don't even know how to turn it on yet."

There was laughter from the crowd. One of the dumber ones disagreed, "But I saw you filming him."

"Total bluff, to make him let go of Julia. It wasn't even turned on. I don't think it even has a camera."

Everyone thought this was very funny, except Biff.

Well aware of the procedure now I said, "The police will be here shortly. Biff here," I indicated the moron in case there was any doubt who "Biff" was, "will be arrested and will spend some time in jail for his unprovoked assault on my tiny girlfriend and beating up defenseless a boy with a broken arm. The police will need witness statements for evidence against him. I'd appreciate it if some of you who saw it help out."

There were enough kids who said they'd help. My being funny with my camera trick meant it was cool to help me, but I think it was mostly that the previous Biff assaults had made me locally famous, and people wanted to be famous-by-association by helping me with this latest assault.

I turned to the teacher who'd stopped the fight, "I'm sorry I spoke harshly to you; I was a bit stressed at the time. Thanks for stopping the assault. I suggest you ask someone for a pen and paper to record the witnesses' details while they're still here." Then I turned to Julia and ignored everyone else.

"My hero," she gushed at me.

"How's your arm?" I asked back.

We exchanged that sort of thing, and hugs, back and forth. It was nice.

By now the hallway was packed solid, and several teachers were converging on the scene. From one end of the hallway we heard the Principal demanding, "Make way for the Principal," (he's more than a little self-important) as he worked his way through the crowd.

I was standing close enough to Biff for him to be in my proximity sense range. I could sense his intending to run, scared by the Principal's voice I guessed. Knowing what he seemed about to do, I had time to decide how to react: I'd use TK to trip him up.

When he started running, I three-mind TK-pushed on the outside of his rear ankle to tangle it behind his forward leg.

It didn't work because I hadn't allowed enough time. I'd started pushing when his rear leg was too close to his forward leg, so I couldn't accelerate it inward far enough before it got past his forward leg. Before I could try again what would've been two steps later, the crowd had slowed him down enough that the Principal had seen him, and had yelled out Biff's real name and demanded that he stop. Biff, seeing no hope, did so. Life was now too complex for his tiny brain to handle, so it stopped trying.

#2: <First, #1, well done for holding center through all this. You're doing a great job. Second, I like our new abilities. They're VERY useful, though it would've been nice if we'd had the timing for that trip right.>

[Over the next few days, when I saw jocks hurrying somewhere I often practiced tripping them up using this technique, applying my sideways force to the sole of their shoes so they couldn't feel it directly. I soon got the timings down pat, although I did practice several more times just to make sure (snigger).]

[[It never occurred to me at this time "to take the battle to the enemy". There were a few of the jocks who were extreme assholes, and who I'd have loved the opportunity to get some revenge on, but I never thought of proactively seeking it. Football season hadn't started yet, but I never thought to trip the main assholes during the practices or trial games, or waiting until their real games and doing it then. Between trips, nudging the ball at the wrong time (e.g., as an asshole was about to catch it or had just thrown it), and other tactics, I could've made my main persecutors look like clumsy idiots, and probably got them kicked off the team if I sabotaged them for long enough. But it simply never occurred to me. Not that those 'attacks' would have been evidence of a good character, my not even having the ideas was evidence that my character was too passive at this time in my life.]]

The Principal arrived, "What's going on here?" He demanded.

I had pleasure in informing him, "My girlfriend," I still got a thrill out of saying that, "and I were the victims of yet another unprovoked assault by a member of this school's football team. Not two weeks after you promised it'd never happen again. There were dozens of witnesses that neither she nor I provoked him or fought back." Not strictly true, as Julia had punched Biff with her free hand, but I didn't think anyone would count that. "I've called the police and they're on their way here again. We'll be laying assault complaints against our assailant." Then I very much enjoyed adding, "Do you want to call my mother, or shall I?"