14: Retribution

By the time school started the Monday after New Year's we'd filled both my kitchen and Rhonda's with cookies. This was almost better than chemistry because you could eat the results. A lot of times, while cookies were in the oven, or even better, right after they came out, we'd go up to my room and run real chemistry experiments or just play with my train. Sometimes we played a game. She was a killer at Battleship.

We went to Saturday afternoon basketball games to watch Lionel in action. He led the team in points and rebounds. Rhonda laughed all through one game when I told her how Lionel had thrown me in the air so I could dunk the ball in seventh grade. Lionel was six-eight now and was dunking the ball any time he was alone under the basket.

On Valentine's Day, the varsity and JV teams were away, but our junior high team was at home and there was a dance after the game, before the high school dance in the evening. We'd never been to a dance together and we had a ball. Of course, I gave her a sappy valentine that said "I love you. Please be mine," with a big red heart and all. She gave me one of two dogs chasing each other that said "It's fun to play with you, Valentine!" It kind of looked like the ones we handed out in third grade when you had to give a valentine to everyone in the class, boys and girls. We had a good time with all our crew. I was looking forward to a slow song that I could hold her during, but as soon as one started to play, she headed to the table. "Aren't you two going to dance this one?" Rose asked.

"These are no fun to dance to," Rhonda said. I looked at her, puzzled.

"Uh ... Do you mind if I dance with Brian, Rhonda? Just this one song?"

"Sure. I gotta catch my breath." Rose led me to the dance floor and pushed her bodacious bodice into my chest. She put her head on my shoulder. I was still two inches taller than Rose so it was a comfortable fit. Really comfortable. I kept looking over at the table, but Rhonda was talking to Liz and Jackson and Sugar. They were laughing like crazy. I just shook my head and just held onto Rose.

"You've really got it bad, don't you?" Rose said, pulling back enough to look me in the eye. I bit my lip. I was pretty sure I knew what she was talking about, but I didn't want to say anything. She squirmed in my arms a little rubbing her tits against me. "Look. You used to get hard just looking at my boobs and now they're rubbing all over you and you aren't even getting a rise!"

"I'm sorry, Rose. I never meant to respond that way, but I couldn't help it."

"Now you can help it?"

"It's not that. It's just that ... Rose, I really love her."

"Yeah. Everybody can tell. And it's not like she isn't with you all the time, but..."

"But what?"

"You're not on the same page, you know. I know you want to do more than bake cookies with her—but please don't stop doing that. Those oatmeal cookies you two brought to school Monday were wonderful! I just know that she isn't where you are. Have you even kissed her?"

"Yeah. Um ... at Christmas when she gave me the cookbook."

"Once? With, you know, everything? Like we did that time?"

"No!" I was uncomfortable with where this was going. "We don't do that kind of stuff and I wouldn't tell anyone if we did."

"I know, Brian. That's why we all love you. I won't say anything else. I just ... we all are worried about you. Not that we want you to rush into anything, but we all want to see you happy."

"I am happy. Really happy." The song ended and we went back to the table. As soon as the next fast number picked up, Rhonda and I were back out on the floor. Somehow, every time a slow number came on, I got dragged back to the floor by a different girl. I got one dance with Sugar, Brenda, Whitney, Liz, Samantha and Rachel, even though she hardly left Doug all afternoon.

There was a photo station for our valentine pictures and I took Rhonda to have our picture taken. He posed us so I was turned partially toward her and she was looking up at me. I had my arms around her waist. This was it. As soon as the flash went off, I leaned in to kiss her. I'd seen a lot of couples kiss after their picture and this was my opportunity. Just before I made contact, Rhonda turned her face to the camera and I planted a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

"Come on. They're playing another good one!"

At Easter, our family went to church to hear Rev. Gordon. It was a nice service—especially compared to the kind of scary sermons I'd heard at Cassie's church when I was going there. We sat with Rhonda, Donna, and Mrs. Gordon. Rhonda was really pretty. I hardly ever saw her in a dress and this one was a little frilly and she wore gloves. After church, the Gordons came to our house for Easter dinner. We don't usually go to church, but Mom really makes a great ham for Easter Dinner. Easter is when the weather broke and by the end of April, I was riding my bike trying to set a new record for delivering papers. The best I managed was forty-two minutes. I collapsed when I skidded my bike into the drive after I got home.

School was going so well and I had such a swell girlfriend and friends that I had been able to just ignore any contact with Kirby and his gang. That's why it surprised me so much when his black car with the orange flames peeled around a corner and screeched to a stop in front of me just as I turned off of Grape Road on Friday morning. I'd only delivered the first couple blocks of my route.

I tried to turn my bike around and run, but the load of papers slowed me down and before I got turned, one of them had grabbed me. They were prepared for what was happening—I wasn't. They were all wearing ski masks, so I don't know who threw the first punch. Or the second or third. By the time they started kicking me, my papers were in the ditch and I was curled in a ball beside the road. They all jumped in the car again and backed up over my bike before they tore out.

I woke up in the hospital. Some guy who had to go to work early in the morning saw my bike in the middle of the road and jumped out to move it. He saw me lying off to the side. I guess he ran to a neighbor's house and they called an ambulance and the sheriff and then my parents. Everything hurt and when I opened my eyes I was crying. Mom and Dad and Rev. Gordon were there. Everything went dark again and I slept, I guess.

The next time I woke up, my right arm was in a cast. My ribs hurt and my mouth felt all swollen. The sheriff was there with Mom and Dad. He asked me if I knew who beat me up. I told him it was Kirby and his gang, but they were all wearing ski masks. He asked how I knew it was them and I described the car. He nodded.

I was in the hospital all weekend. That night, Rhonda and her family came to visit me. No one at school knew what happened—just that I was absent. My sweet girlfriend had been crying and Donna held her. I was in pretty bad shape and could hardly say anything. Mom held a straw to the right side of my mouth so I could sip water. The left side hurt too much. Rhonda came to the bedside when she saw I was awake. She took hold of my left hand. That didn't hurt too much.

"I'll deliver your papers for you while you're ... sick, Brian," she said. "I want you to get better soon."

"Is it safe?" Rev. Gordon asked my dad.

"They were arrested this afternoon," Dad said. "But maybe we should follow along in the morning."

"Rhonda is very concerned," her dad said, "so I won't ask her not to help. It's not our way. But I'd feel better about it if we kept an eye on her." They went out into the hall and Mrs. Gordon joined them.

"You're the best girlfriend," I whispered to Rhonda. "You're the only person I could ever turn to for help like that. I mean except my parents," I added as Mom snuffed a little. She smiled at us and went out to join the adults. Donna came to that side of the bed.

"You really look bad," she said.

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I just meant that they really beat you up. Rhonda has been crying ever since she got home from school and found out. Well, I guess I have, too. I hope you're not mad, but when I found out, I had to call Joanne. I was so upset. She's my best friend and I know she's your friend, too."

"It's okay. Thanks." I was finding it hard to concentrate on anything Donna was saying because Rhonda was still holding my hand and kind of petting it. It was the only thing in my world that didn't hurt. She didn't say much else except to hurry and get well. Then visiting hours were over and everybody left. I kept flexing the fingers on my left hand trying to keep the feeling of her holding it.

A nurse came in about eight o'clock and found me crying. Not loud. I felt like a baby. I'd never felt really lonely before. And I hurt.

"Oh, Brian!" the nurse said when she saw me. "Didn't anyone show you the button to call for help? You don't have to wait for us to come around if the pain is too bad. Call me. I'm just a few steps down the hall and if you push this button, I'll come running. Let's get you something to make you more comfortable."

I had to go to the bathroom and that wasn't comfortable at all. I had to roll onto my left side and she had a kind of pitcher I had to pee into. Of course, just knowing she was holding that urinal over my cock made it start to get hard and then it got caught on the edge and flopped back when she pulled the pitcher away. My face was so hot, I knew I must be fire-engine red with embarrassment.

"Oh, good!" she said. "It looks like all your plumbing works. I'm always worried when I see a young man in your condition that something might not work right. I'd say you'll do fine." I wondered how often she saw young men in my condition. But the pain medicine she gave me was having an effect, too, and boner or not, I was going to sleep.

"Joanne, please don't tell anybody," I pled. She'd come over as soon as I got home on Sunday afternoon and was sitting on my bed beside me. She was pissed.

"Why didn't you tell me they were still pestering you?"

"They hadn't done anything since that time on the school bus when the sheriff chased them. I thought it was all over," I complained. "Joanne, if you tell a bunch of people, they'll get in trouble. They could all get hurt, too. I don't want my friends getting hurt because they think they need to protect me. What kind of a friend would that make me?"

"But Brian, you can't carry ammonia around with you anymore. These guys are delinquents."

"Yeah. And they're in jail, right where they're supposed to be."

"Um ... not exactly."

"What?" She sat next to me on the bed and held my hand between both of hers. It was kind of up against her tummy and I was getting distracted.

"That's why I want you protected. They got out of jail yesterday and their parents took them home," she said.

"How could they do that?"

"They must have planned it all out. Kirby called the sheriff's office Friday morning at seven and told him he had just gone out to get in his car to go to school and discovered it had been stolen."

"Stolen? He was in it when he attacked me," I complained.

"But you told the sheriff that you couldn't really identify them because they wore ski masks. So all you could identify was the car that had already been reported stolen."

"Oh, crap!"

"Exactly."

"Now it's more important that no one does anything, Joanne. Except maybe help watch out for Rhonda when she delivers my papers if anyone can get up that early. Let me figure something out."

"Brian, promise me you won't try to do anything by yourself."

"Joanne..."

"Put your hand on my heart and promise me." Before I could respond, Joanne pulled my left hand up under her shirt and put it right on her bare left breast.

"Um ... I don't think that's exactly where your heart is, Joanne."

"Can't you feel it beating? Promise me, Brian. I know you'd never break a promise. Promise you won't go after them by yourself."

"I promise," I said. I made no move to take my hand away from her wonderful soft breast and she didn't try to move it. She stared into my eyes. "I want you to promise something, too, Joanne," I whispered. I pulled at her hand with my right hand. It hurt a little, but Joanne got the message and slid her hand lightly up under my pajama shirt and placed it over my heart. As near to over as I was. "With our hands on each other's hearts, promise me you'll keep my friends from trying to get revenge. Promise you'll make them wait for me."

"I promise, I'll try. They are already pretty upset. When they start hearing things on Monday they are all going to want to do something. I don't know what you think you can do, but I'll try to convince them to wait before they do something." She leaned forward, pressing my hand against her more firmly against her breast. I squeezed it gently and felt her hard little nipple in my palm. She kissed me lightly on the right side of my mouth and all I could think of was how I wished I didn't hurt and we were up in the hayloft.

By Tuesday when I got back to school, everybody knew. There had been a confrontation on the high school side, but Kirby played poor wronged innocent whose car had been used without his knowledge. "It wasn't us," he announced. Everyone knew otherwise, but there was no proof.

"How are deliveries going?" I asked Rhonda at lunch.

"It's a breeze. I can do them in forty-five minutes. I go early, though, so I can take a hot bath when I get home." I was having trouble eating with my left hand and a bite of hotdog scooted halfway across the table when I tried to cut it with my fork. Rhonda laughed. Whitney reached over from the other side and cut up the rest of my hotdog so I could get it and some beans on my spoon.

"Do you want us to feed you?" Brenda laughed just as beans dribbled down my chin. It was hard enough to eat left-handed, but the left side of my mouth was still cut and a little swollen. Getting food into the right side of my mouth with my left hand was a real challenge. My teeth were a little loose on that side, too, so I'd been eating mostly soft things at home yesterday. Fortunately, everything the lunch ladies cooked came out soft.

"See?" Rhonda asked. "You've got a whole tableful of nurses. Now, who is going to help with notes in his classes?" That brought up another issue. I really couldn't write left handed. Fortunately, there was at least one person at the table in each of my classes except chemistry.

"I want good notes," I said. "The kind I let you copy, Lionel." He grinned at me.

"I'm taking better notes now since you let me see how you did it. I won't let you down."

The bell rang and I headed for chemistry. The entire front five met me at the hall intersection and we walked to class together. I didn't see any sign of Kirby or his gang.