The Story of a Little Bad Boy

I'm flying over the roofs of the houses in our neighborhood. I feel free like never before in my waking life. I don't have wings or anything, I just strech out my arms as a plane and glide on the wind. Mom is in the garden, hanging the laundry out to dry. She waves at me as I fly over her head. I fly over to the town center to find daddy working at the construction. I drop on my feet on the ledge of the support for the masons and look out for daddy, but he's not there. Suddenly, I spot him on the sidewalk, crossing over to the construction. I wave to him to hurry because I don't know how long I'll be able to stay. But he don't see me. There's something else he has his eyes fixed on. It's a little boy, whose ball fell out of his hands into the drive way. It's a basket ball. The boy runs after the ball and doesn't even notice the car that's going in his direction. The driver steps on the brakes with all his might, but he's too late. The car turns its side on the boy and continues screechingly toward him, the driver spinning the wheel frantically. Daddy stops for a minute in his tracks. Then he lets go of the beer bottles he has in his hands and sprints over to the boy. I see everything has slowed to the point where it looks like things are hardly moving at all. So I can't really tell if daddy sprints or not, but he has a tense expression on his face, like I've seen on TV with sportsmen just reaching the finish line. So I know he must be sprinting at his highest speed. The car finally reaches the boy. He stands there with the basket ball in his hands, his face mesmerized, not knowing what to do for a second. Now I see it's Marco. Then daddy reaches him and lifts him high in his arms, higher than he ever lifted anything. Higher than he ever lifted a simple feather caught in the tips of his fingers. He knows it's too late to turn anywhere else. He knows it's too late to save himself and the realization shows in his eyes. I don't know if his life flies in front of his unseeing gaze, but it's certainly possible. With the last of his strength, he throws the boy in the direction of the sidewalk, to safety. Then the car slowly hits him. It crunches a little and he doubles up in a graceful curve. His head smashes through the side window of the car. Splinters of glass fly everywhere with gentle clinking sounds as they hit the asphalt. They're stained by little droplets of blood from daddy's face. His features are distorted by pain and there are deep scratches on his face, made by the glass. One of his eyes is out and its liquid stains his face. There's blood everywhere, so it's hard to tell it's daddy at all. But I know it's him. Only suddenly he don't look like a hero. He looks like a stupid puppet. His remaining eye is scared and big in its socket. He don't look like all those action heroes, dying with a laugh on his face. Sometimes I think God has a sick sense of humor. Sometimes I think he wants us to suffer because that's what we did to his son. I stare a minute longer into daddy's scared eye. Eye for an eye, I realize. I didn't know it could be summed up as simple as that.

In the morning I prepare things for school and put the pouch with Freddy's paw on my neck. It smells funny, but I don't really care. I run downstairs for breakfast. Mom is already there and stirs something at the cooker. She tells me good morning and I do the same. I hurry with my breakfast, as if I didn't know that won't make the bus arrive any faster anyway. When the bus honks out front, I grab my backpack and run out. I get on and take a seat beside Marco. His left eye is all purple and swolen. He gives me his lopsided grin. Eye for an eye, I realize. On the way to school we don't talk much. We figure it's better to surprise everyone once we're in class. Marco calls it an element of suprise. I can already hear Shiri screaming her head off once she sees it. This feels real cool.

I don't even know what the teacher talks about in the first period. I'm so excited about break. I don't sit next to Marco. He has to sit alone because the teacher says he's a bad influence. I sit next to William Navarro, whom everyone calls Billy. He's tall and scrawny and has red hair and freckles on his face. He's very intelligent, or so the teacher says. He's got very rich parents. His daddy works in a big company, but no-one really knows what he does. Billy says he works undercover for the CIA, but I don't believe that. He's as fat as Billy is slim and don't look like he could chase disrupting factors over roofs. That's what he calls most of the people, disrupting factors. Especially Marco. He has very thick glasses and sweats right through his expensive suit. He always dabs on his forehead with a handkerchief. I know this because he often comes to visit mom. Mom says they went to the same class when she was at school, but I don't know. He looks twice her age. Mom always closes the door when he's in and locks it. Once he forgot his tie at our house. Honestly, I don't know how anyone can forget a tie. Unless his neck got so fat with all the special cakes mom cooked for him that he had to take the tie off not to choke. I'd love to see him choke, he's so snobby and never brings me anything when he comes on a visit. He just brings chocolates for my mom. That's why I don't like Billy. I don't think he likes me either because his mom hates my mom. She never goes out of the villa they live in but always sends servants to shop for her or to take care of her big garden. They even have a large pool in the garden, and Japanese style decorations. Billy says the pool is as big as a half of the football pitch, but I think he just brags. He says he hates both of his parents because his mom is weak and his dad selfish. But I think he hates them mainly because them make him go to church every Sunday, and he has to play piano and learn Japanese. Funny thing is that his daddy hates the Japanese, he only makes Billy learn their language so he can make profit when he takes over his daddy's firm. His daddy employs only the Japanese because he says they make a good cheap labor force. The teacher says Billy's father is a capitalist, but I don't know what that means. I don't think it's nice though.

The lesson finally ends. The teacher walks out of the room and Marco and I call everyone to the center of the classroom. I take out the paw and all the girls, and also Billy, scream.

"Where'd you get it?" asks Nathan, one of the boys from class.

I tell him the whole story. Marco's not much of a talker, but everyone knows he was in on the adventure anyway. Lena, the little girl with the braces, voices it.

"I don't know what you're bragging about. We all know it was Marco's work. You can't do anything without him. You just do whatever he tell you."

I'm mad at her. I'm madder at her than I've ever been. I look around at the faces of the other kids. Nobody else says so, but I know they think the same as Lena.

"You can't say I didn't do it!" I scream at them. I don't like to scream because my voice gets all high-pitched and girly. But I do it anyway, to prove my point. What gets me most is that Marco don't say anything to help me out. I'm mad at him, too. One day, all of them'll know who the real Mike Raleigh is. I'll show them. One day I'll do something even Marco wouldn't. I think it's because of the blue eye they all think Marco is tougher. I always look like a good boy, with my mousy hair and big eyes. But I'll show them.

I sulk the rest of the day, but nobody seems to mind. Marco is enjoying all the attention of the class. There's a pretty girl in our class I've had a crush on since I was five. Her name is Anna. She has long blond hair and it's all wavy and smells nice. When she smiles, she has dimples on her cheeks. She lives near our house, and I've often picked cherries in their garden in the summer. She was the only one that didn't laugh when I peed over myself at school when I was little. She lives with her grandma because both her parents are dead. But she has reasons to hope they're still alive somewhere because their bodies were never found. She told me that one day her parents took a car and drove away. Their car was found empty on a road in the woods, and the police don't know what happened to them. They never found out. So Anna still thinks they're alive somewhere, only don't want to come home yet, even though it's been years. She's happy to live with her grandma, though. She always gives her lots of sweets and she gives them to me at class. She says I'm underfed. She reminds me a little of my mommy.

Anna walks over to Marco's desk and starts pitying him because of his blue eye. I've noticed long ago that Anna notices you more if you lose a fight than if you win it. And she notices you most when you're not the one who started the fight in the first place and walk out of it badly hurt. She always comes to you when it's over and you lie on your back and just stare into the sky because it hurts too much to even try to stand up and your face is swolen and it feels like you've just broken something inside of you. She helps you up and holds you under the arm and walks you limping to the headmaster's office. And then, when you get beaten for the second time because she's told who started the fight, she repeats the procedure. She's real pretty and all that. But I hate her right now because she pays attention only to Marco. I start thinking if it wouldn't be good if I got myself beaten, too. But she'd know it was me who started the fight, so I don't do anything. I'm mad as hell though.

After school, Marco and I get on the bus and sit next to each other again. We still don't talk, but now it has a different reason and even Marco knows that. I get off in front of our house, tear the pouch with the paw off my neck and throw it away into the bushes. From now on, Marco and I don't have anything to say to each other. From now on, I'm the disturbing factor on my own, just like Marv is. I'm a lone hitman, a secret agent everone has to fear, a superman, only evil. I've noticed it's way easier to just be evil than try to be nice. So that's what I am now. Who I am. Only mom mustn't know. Mom and the teacher.

And when I kick this little place's dust off my boots, they're all gonna remember my name. Mike "Marv" Raleigh.