Someone's Son Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Friday morning was wet and dreary. June was supposed to be mild, warm and sunny. The local weatherman had promised this bit of good news and besides school was almost over. What a bummer.

          Felt more like September.

          Sheldon and Troy shivered in their light jackets. "Should have worn my raincoat today," Troy said.

          My books are getting soaked," Sheldon answered, glancing at his friend as they trudged along.

          "Didja ask her?" mumbled Troy.

          "Yes."

          "Well?"

          "Well what?" Sheldon huffed.

          " What's the matter? Does your mom want to hook up with your dad again? Stop acting like a jerk."

          "Sorry, Troy. It's just that..."

          "Awright…Awright. I understand, Okay? But you know what I mean."

          "No, I don't...let me guess."

          "Come on Sheldon. This is your friend. You know... your buddy. Remember?"

          "It's a pain Troy. I'm really upset. I don't want him coming back as a father. Like I’m a pooch or something. Time to spend a little time with his son. Even his breath stinks."

          "He smokes, that's why. Give him a break!" Troy said, rolling his eyes.

          "I know. I guess I'm just picking on him. I feel terrible today. Didn't get much sleep."

          "Take it easy," Troy scolded. "Can't be that bad."

          "Well it is, " Sheldon responded.

He remembered mom coming into his room the other night. The memory of her snuffling made him feel uncomfortable. Why couldn't his dad stay out of his life? Why did he have to get transferred back to Halifax? Worse still, he rented a house near Glenholme. "To be near my boy," he said.

          "Hey look, there's Todd and the others waiting. Hurry! The bus!!" screamed Troy as he led Sheldon in a chase up the street. They climbed aboard for a ten-kilometer ride, to Onslow High.

          Looking outside from the back of the bus Sheldon saw bald-headed Mr. Reynolds waving at him from his front lawn. He wondered why Troy didn’t like Mr. Reynolds. Sudden pain disturbed his thoughts. "Ow!" he yelled. Turning, he spotted Jeff's giggling features, left hand balled up for another punch at Sheldon's shoulder.

"Hey bug off! I mean it, meatball!" Sheldon was tired of being pushed around by the morning bully. Every day he had to put up with this...fool.

          "Come on nutso. Try me on for size." Before Jeff could move, Troy had whacked Jeff across the side of the face. He always felt the need to protect Shel, his buddy who was two years younger.

          "Cool it Troy," Sheldon said. "It's okay."

          "Aww yer right, it's not worth it." Troy settled back in his seat.

          Jeff was relieved to get a reprieve. Troy was one dude you didn't fool with. He was happy to retreat to his own seat, and wasn't going to complain to anyone.

          The bus driver heard the noise and by the time she could concentrate on what happened, it was all over.

          Troy and Sheldon looked at each other sheepishly. Now the rest of the children were buzzing with some more goodies to gossip about at school.

 

At supper that night Sheldon's daydreams seemed to get the better of him.

          "Son, your father asked you to pass the butter. He said it politely and you insist on sitting there, completely ignoring him. And I'm getting tired of you glaring at him all the time. What is it with you?"

          As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake.

          “Why can't he get his own butter? He's closer to it. And why are you always on my case? Good thing they couldn't read his thoughts. "So I'm a little late for supper..."

          "Again. Say it, again," his mother insisted.

          "Again," Sheldon mumbled.

          "And it is totally unacceptable, son. We have a strict house rule and it reads, everyone eats together."

          "I agree."

          "What did you say?"

          "Mom, can't I say anything? Am I in prison?"

          "Not if it's a negative thought, and no."

          "OK, I'll rip off my lips then." Sheldon looked down at his plate, eyes swimming. What's the matter with me? So, dad is having supper with us. What's the big deal? I already agreed to the plans for tomorrow.

          "Sheldon? Do you mind if I say something?" his dad asked.

          "Sure. If mom lets."

          "Sheldon!!"

          "Sorry!"

          "Would you feel better if I left the table?" his father continued. “We’ll see each other tomorrow, anyways.”

          "Well, no," Sheldon answered.

          "If it helps you settle down, I will."

          Silence followed.

          "I'd like an answer, please." His father watched closely as Sheldon struggled with his emotions. Both adults could sense something really troubled him.

          Ok, smart guy, you're in a spot, now fix it. "I don't want you to leave the table, sir!" Sheldon fired back.

          "Is it too hard to call me 'Dad?' I'm your father for goodness sakes. Am I expecting too much, Edna?"

          "No."

          Sheldon began again. "No, don't leave the table father. I’m sorry for being rude. Instead, I'll leave the table." Then he stood up ready to follow through on his statement.

          "No you won't," interrupted his mother. "Sit down!"

          "But momm!!"

          "Don't 'but mom, me.' I'm putting my foot down, right now. I want you to eat with both of us son." Her upraised eyebrows asked for a truce.

          "Alright mom. I’m sorry." He wanted to scream, instead managed to regain control. Sheldon was getting weary of always saying he was sorry.

          "Me too Sheldon," his dad spoke up, as if reading his thoughts.

          "No, it's my fault. I'm kinda out of it lately. I don't know what's wrong. The flu or something." Sheldon hoped he sounded convincing. He looked at his mom. She didn't buy that at all.

          The meal continued and somehow a respectable conversation took over until dishes were cleared, washed and put away.

 

After supper Sheldon went over to Troy's. He retold the supper disaster story. Sheldon walked dejectedly along with his chum. He wasn't saying much more of anything. Just ambling along.

          "So, what do you wanna do?" Troy asked. He didn't know where else to begin. He had spotted Sheldon driving recklessly into his yard and carelessly flinging his bike down. Imagine, Sheldon doing that?

          "Go for a walk?" Sheldon had thrown out. He almost wished Troy had turned him down. Then he could have had a private walk.

          "Sure." Troy answered. If only his friend turned into the relaxed pal he used to be. Just a few weeks ago, everything seemed so normal. Troy couldn't even remember when his old man left. Besides, he didn't really care. But it bothered him that Sheldon was turning into an old crab.

          "Sheldon, didja hear me? Where are we goin'? Troy repeated. He followed single file along the path into the woods behind his place.

          "How do I know? Stop leaning on me. Anywhere, OK? Listen, I want to tell you something. It's a secret." He turned and looked deep into Troy's eyes. Could he trust his best friend?

          What if...Troy told. No he wouldn't, or would he?

          His idea had taken place after the last spat with his mom. "I feel like running away."

Troy’s eyes were widened in surprise. "What??" he stammered, unbelief etched across his face.

          "You heard me," Sheldon said, more certain of it now. "And don't you dare tell anyone...or we won't be friends anymore."

          "You're only twelve…”

“Almost thirteen,” Sheldon corrected.

“Just a kid,” Troy continued. “You can't do that, no way, Shel. Who will be my friend?" he asked softly. Troy took in Sheldon's appearance. The clean sneakers and tidy jeans barely rumpled, T-shirt screaming, 'STOP CLEARCUTTING, YOU FOOL.' And that serious face, blond hair blowing in the wind, freckles beginning to disappear.

          He knew Shel hated freckles. And he knew his buddy cared about being responsible and following the rules.

          This has got to be a bad joke, Troy thought.     He didn't know what else to say. "I'll never have another pal like you," he said turning away. "Some friend you turned out to be."

          "What?" Sheldon was astonished. "What did you say?"

           Troy was older and supposed to be tougher but he was lost for more words. He knew Sheldon never spoke foolishly and that everything he said he meant. "Don't, Sheldon. Don't run away," Troy said.

          "And why not? Just because my dad comes back home, I'm supposed to drop all my plans. At first, it sounded okay. Then he moves almost next door. Every time I turn around he's at the house. Larry's called a couple of times wondering if I'm mad at him or something. And I don't know what to say to him."

          His rush of words finally ceased, as if a waterfall ran out of moisture.

          "I'll tell your mom." As soon as the words escaped Troy's lips, he was sorry. "Hey, I didn't mean that, honest." The utterance had come out too swiftly.

          "You little snitch. Here I am telling you my secret plans and you're going to tell mom? What kind of friend are you? Maybe I don't need a friend like you. Especially after I kept your own little secret."

          "Hey...just a minute." Troy hesitated. "What do you mean, my little secret?"

          "Don't you want to go on a hike with me right now?" Sheldon asked, changing the subject. His fist rubbed harshly at the side of his jeans. It wasn’t easy trying to stare back at his friend.

          Black sockets smoldered, burning into Sheldon's forehead. Facial muscles formed into tight knots of determination.

          "What little secret?" Troy repeated.

          "Never...never mind. I have to go," Sheldon said.

          As he turned away, five strong fingers clamped themselves on his shoulder and squeezed.

          "Tell me!" Troy demanded.

          And Sheldon did.

          "If you ever say anything about me chucking rocks at windows, I'll blast you one. Shel, I mean it. I'm not going back to Training School. No way."

          Sheldon shuddered. He believed it. "Want to go for a hike now?" he asked meekly.

          "Can't right now. How about Saturday, OK? And don't forget what I said," and then Troy was off.

          "Can't," Sheldon said quietly after his retreating friend. "I'm supposed to go with my dad. That is, if I don't run away." His last breath of words was barely a whisper.

          Sheldon watched his friend stomping back down the path. He knew Troy made up a poor excuse just so he could avoid listening to Sheldon's plan. Maybe it was best he didn't stick around to threaten Sheldon anymore. Everyone knew Troy could be a jerk. But they didn’t know he liked to rip off people's mailboxes. And bust windows.

          Now Sheldon really felt alone. He wished he had the courage to stand up to his friend. But a Reform School graduate could be a tough customer.

          "There goes Sheldon with that goof Troy," people said when the two friends walked down the street. He liked Troy. And they were good friends, even if he acted tough. But that didn't matter. Besides mom and Larry, he was the only one he could talk to about some things.

          He remembered how they became friends at Victoria Park in Truro two years ago. It was a hot sunny afternoon.

 

After climbing a tree and sitting on the elbow of a large branch he had spotted his enemy from school, Troy the Terrible.

          "What are you doing up there?" the tough looking kid had shouted. He was wearing a muscle shirt and his face was dirty as usual.

          "Who's askin'?" Sheldon tried to sound tough for a ten year old.

          "I asked you first. Stupid kid."

          "What did you say?"

          Troy yelled up, "Are you crazy or something? When I say come on down out of that tree, I mean it. Hurry up!"

          "Why?"

          "If you don't come down I'm coming up?"

          "Okay...okay." This wasn't the time to argue. After sliding and scraping down the trunk Sheldon landed hard.

          "You sure look funny sittin' there." A smile warmed Troy's face.

          "That's hard on the behind. Help me up. OK?" Sheldon asked.

          A strong grip then grasped the younger boy.