STAND BY ME: Chapter 8
Chapter 8
THE LOSER’S LIFE
After about a kilometer, the tracks go into the forest. The land goes down into a wet, soft area, almost like a swamp. There are many insects. They are as big as airplanes. They bite us over and over. But the air is cool. Very cool.
We sit in the shade and drink our Cokes. After only a few minutes, Vern goes into the bushes to go to the bathroom. When he comes back, we laugh at him. “Did the train scare you, Vern?” Teddy says. “No, man,” Vern says. “I was going to go anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Chris says. “Come on, you guys. I did. Really.” “I think we should check his underwear for brown marks,” Teddy says. We all laugh. Chris looks at me. “What about you, Gordie? Were you scared?” “No way,” I say as I drink my Coke. “Really?” Chris says. “Really.”
Teddy looks at me closely. “You weren’t scared?” “No,” I say. “I was past scared. I was fucking terrified!” They laugh for a long time. Then we lie back. We stop joking. We drink quietly. My body feels warm and calm. I feel good. I feel close to everything and everyone. It is a special moment. After a while, Chris stands up. “Let’s get walking,” he says. It is still bright, but our shadows are longer now.
I remember when I was young. The days in September always felt too short. It felt like the days ended too quickly. Inside me, I thought it should still be summer. I thought the light should stay longer.
“What time is it, Gordie?” Chris asks. “After five,” I say. “Let’s go,” Teddy says. “We should stop before dark. We need to find wood. I’m hungry too.” “We’ll stop at six thirty,” Chris says. “OK?” We all agree. We start walking again.
The river is far behind us now. We kill insects on our arms and necks. Vern and Teddy walk ahead. They talk about TV. Chris walks next to me. “I have some cigarettes,” he says. “One each after dinner.” “Really? That’s great.”
“That’s when they taste best,” Chris says. “After dinner.” “Right.” We walk in silence. Then Chris speaks again. “Are you ready for school?” “I guess,” I say. But no one is ever really ready. You feel excited to see your friends. You want to meet your new teachers. Sometimes, you even think school will be interesting.
But that feeling does not last. Soon, you are bored again. And then you think about other more important things. Can you hit the nerdy kid with a spit ball? Can you make a farting noise pushing your hand on the desk? How many girls will let you touch their asses during lunch? That is the real education.
“You know what, Gordie?” Chris says. “What?” “By next year, it will be over for us.” “What do you mean? Why would that happen,” I answer. “You’ll be in different classes,” he says. “College classes. Me and Teddy and Vern, we’ll be in carpentry classes. Making bird houses and pots and stuff like that. You’ll meet smart kids. Kids like you. That’s just how it goes, Gordie.”
“I’ll meet a lot of pussies, you mean,” I say. He grabs my arm. “No. Don’t say that. Don’t think that.” He looks at me. “You know how you tell us stories sometimes?” I say nothing. “Vern and Teddy love your stories, but they don’t always understand them. Those guys in your college courses will understand them.” “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I’m not leaving my friends.”
“If you don’t leave us, you’re stupid,” Chris says. “Why is that stupid?” He looks at me for a long time. We are walking slower now. Vern and Teddy are far ahead. The sun is low. The light comes through the trees and turns everything gold. Chris speaks quietly.
“It’s stupid if your friends pull you down.” He pauses. “I know about your parents,” he says. “They don’t care about you like they did your brother.” I say nothing. “It’s like my dad,” Chris says. “After my brother went to prison, he changed. He started hitting us. Your dad doesn’t hit you. But maybe that’s worse. He ignores you.”
I still say nothing. “If you told him you were taking shop classes,” Chris says, “he would just turn the page of his newspaper. Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. I’ve met your dad.” I don’t try to tell him he’s wrong. It is scary when someone knows your life so well. “You’re still young, Gordie…” “Thanks, Dad,” I say.
“I wish I was your dad,” he says. He sounds angry now. “If I was, you wouldn’t choose those classes.” He looks at me. “It’s like God gave you something,” he says. “Your stories. And he said: don’t lose it.” He shakes his head. “But kids always lose everything. If no one helps them. If your parents won’t help… maybe I should.”
He looks at me, like he thinks I might hit him. He has broken an important rule. You can say anything about a friend. But you never say a bad word about his parents. “If you stay with us,” Chris says, “you’ll become like everyone else. Just some guy. You’ll never escape this town.”
“You’ll think it’s important to have the right kind of car, and the right kind of girl. You’ll work in the factory, or in a shoe store. Is that what you want?” Chris Chambers is only twelve when he says all this. But there is something in his face that makes him seem older. He understands this life. It’s the life he expects he will have. A life where you never escape. It frightens me.
“I know what people in this town think about my family,” Chris says. “That time with the milk money… no one even asked me.” “Did you take it?” I ask. I have never asked before. “Yes,” he says quietly. “I took it.” He pauses. “You knew I took it. Even Vern knew, I think.” I say nothing.
He is right: everyone knew. I even argued with my parents about it. I said a person was innocent until they were proven guilty. But deep inside I knew the truth.
“Maybe I felt sorry,” he says. “Maybe I tried to give it back.” I look at him. “You tried to give the money back?” “Maybe,” he says. “Maybe I gave it to Mrs. Simons, the art teacher. Maybe I gave her all the money back. And maybe I still got punished. And maybe the next week Mrs. Simons had a new dress on when she came to school.”
I stare at him. I can’t believe what he is telling me. “Just maybe all that happened,” he says. But I remembered the new dress. “How much money was it, Chris?” I ask. “Almost seven dollars.” “Jesus,” I whisper in surprise. Back then seven dollars was a lot of money. “But if I stole the money,” he continues, “then Mrs. Simons stole it from me… what if I said something about it?”
I understand. “Who would believe me?” he says. “Me? Chris Chambers?” “No one,” I say quietly. “I know,” he says. He looks tired. “I wanted to believe teachers were better,” he says. “But… who cares?” He wipes his eyes. He is close to crying. “Chris,” I say, “why don’t you try for the college classes? You’re smart enough.”
“The teachers decide,” he says. “All they care about is if you’re a good student, polite, and don’t cause trouble. They look at your family and judge you. What the town thinks of you. They don’t want someone like me with the good students.” He looks ahead. “But I want to leave this town. I want to go to college. I want a new life. Somewhere no one knows me.”
He pauses. “But I don’t know if I can do it.” “Why not?” “People,” he says. “People pull you down.” “Who?” I ask. I’m thinking about his brother, Eyeball, or maybe his parents. But he points ahead. At Vern. At Teddy. “Your friends pull you down,” he says. “They’re like drowning men. They hold your legs under the water. You can’t save them. You drown with them.”
“Come on!” Vern shouts. “Hurry up!” “We’re coming!” Chris calls. Then he runs. He reaches them before I reach them.
