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Rated: 13+ · Book · Teen · #2189048
Story of Torey Campbell, Part 1. Beginning through First Plot Point. Work in progress.
#961154 added October 13, 2019 at 8:37pm
Restrictions: None
Scene 18 _ She Makes Me Feel Funny
Scene 18 Rev E

Scene 18 “She Makes Me Feel Funny”

Torey Campbell – Protagonist
Viviana Tessaro – Torey’s girlfriend (not yet)
Friedrich Kopischke – Shopkeeper, owner of Kopischke’s Market
Miles Hawkins – Torey Campbell’s friend 1
         Torey heard the bus stop. The airbrake hiss and door clatter was a sound every city person knew well. With his eyes swollen almost shut and his face on the sidewalk, all he could see was a pair of sneakers and jeans running toward him.
         “Holy crap, Campbell. What happened to you?” a female voice exclaimed frantically.
         Viviana Tessaro knelt and put her head to the ground so that she was looking into Torey’s eyes, her long, wavy black hair partially covering her face.
         “Got in a fight,” was the mumbled reply, as Torey recognized her and smiled weakly.
         Torey was almost dead weight as Viviana struggled to roll him over and sit him up. Finally, somewhat upright, Torey slouched with his legs spread straight, his body hunched forward, and his head drooped.
         “Guess you did! Let me look at your face. Geez, you are a mess,” Viviana replied, lifting his head to inspect his wounds.
         “Do I look as bad as I feel?” he said attempting to be lighthearted.
         “I hope you don’t feel as bad as you look,” she replied, smiling.
         After several seconds, Torey queried, “What do you see?”
         “You’ve got a split lip, a deep gash over your left eye, and a bad cut on your left cheek. How do you feel?”
         Torey suddenly seemed to come alert. “Viviana, why are you here? Where did you come from? Do you live nearby?” he inquired quizzically.
         “A thank you would be nice,” she replied, “I live on Railway Rd near Forest Ave. I got off the bus two stops early because I saw you laying on the ground.”
         “Thank you.”
         “You’re welcome. Who did this to you?”
         “Rufus Kenly and Nestor Ramirez.”
         “Why?”
         “They were beating up on Jethro Lawson when I got off the bus.”
         “So why did you get involved?”
         “Two big guys against one little Jethro just ticked me off.”
         Though still groggy and dizzy, Torey was careful not to mention the real reason for the beating – Bertozzi’s demand that Torey deal drugs for him.
         “You were brave to step in – maybe not so smart, but brave,” Viviana replied.
         “Thanks. I never said I was smart,” said Torey, still having difficulty speaking.
         “How do you feel now?” she continued.
         “My whole body hurts. They did a lot of kicking and punching to my gut and chest too. Then Kenly finished off with brass knuckles.”
         Viviana winced at the thought as she tried to inspect the left side of Torey’s face.
         “I don’t see any bleeding through your shirt, but the left side of your face is the worst.”
         “I think I still have all my teeth.”
         Viviana stood up, an idea suddenly dawning. “Let me see if I can get some water and a rag from Mr. Kopischke.”
         The bell on the door that jingled as Viviana stepped inside the store didn’t summon any attention, so she set off through the rows of shelves of canned goods, laundry products, and bottled soda pop. The musty smell of the small grocery store was familiar and comforting. Passing the racks of bread and pastry, then the produce bin, she reached the back of the building and found what she was seeking. At his butcher block behind the meat case, Mr. Kopischke was busy cutting a beef quarter into steaks and chops.
         “Mr. Kopischke!”
         “Hello Viviana,” Kopischke replied pleasantly acknowledging her presence.
         “Can you help me, please?” Viviana asked, in a voice obviously stressed.
         “Certainly, what can I do for you?”
         “Can’t you see that boy lying on the sidewalk outside?”
         “Yes. He’s the second one those two thugs have beaten up today,” Kopischke replied.
         Viviana was taken back by his ‘matter of fact’ tone and apparent disregard for the person lying outside. “You didn’t think to help him?”, she exclaimed, anger rising in her voice.
         Kopischke became defensive. “I don’t want to get mixed up in all that teenage gang stuff.”
         “He’s my friend. I’m not going to leave him lying there bleeding,” Viviana said, her tone sharp and her face flushed.
         “Help him up and get him away from my store,” Kopischke replied, indignantly.
         Viviana continued, “That’s Torey Campbell. You know him?”
         “Yes.”
         “… and you won’t help him?”
         Kopischke attempted a response. “I told you …”
         Viviana cut him off, the anger in her voice now unmistakable. “Can I have a pan of water and a wash cloth?”
         Kopischke realized he was on the wrong side of this discussion. “Yes. I can do that,” he replied humbly.
         Kopischke went to the small bathroom under the stairs leading up to the apartment above. There he retrieved a wash pan, wash cloth, and towel.
         As he filled the pan with water, Viviana commented, “He’s beat up pretty bad.”
         Now remorseful, Kopischke said, “I should have called the police.”
         Still angry, Viviana attempted to control her voice, “That would have been a good idea, Mr. Kopischke.”
         Kopischke tried to defend himself as the helpless innocent. “They threatened me …”
         Viviana would have none of it. In a voice dripping with sarcasm, she repeated “… that would have been a good idea.”
         “Here is a pan of water, a wash cloth, and a towel. You’re right, I should have helped him.”
         “Thank you. Yes!”
         Viviana headed to the front door with the pan of water in her hands, a wash cloth and towel under her arm, and Kopischke close behind.
         “Hi, Mr. Kopischke,” mumbled Torey through his swollen mouth.
         Kopischke’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of Torey’s face.
         Viviana took on a motherly air. “Let me wash away some of the blood, so I can see the damage.”
         Kopischke became defensive again, assuming a tone of righteous indignation. “Why do you kids always have to fight in front of my store?”
         “I’m sorry Mr. Kopischke,” replied Torey.
         “You need to find someplace else for your gang fights,” Kopischke commented, in a disgusted tone.
         Torey and Viviana chose not to continue the discussion.
         There is something soothing about the sound of water in a pan, and as Viviana sloshed the washcloth in the water and rung it out, Torey brightened a bit. Viviana’s gentle touch, dabbing at the clotted blood almost made him forget his pain – almost.
         “Damn, that hurts,” he said, grimacing as she wiped his left cheek where the wounds from the brass knuckles were the worst.
         “Those cuts are pretty bad. Probably need stiches.”
         “Crap,” barked Torey, angry at the thought of his parents hauling him off to the hospital.
         “Torey, I think you should go to the hospital and get those cuts taken care of. What do you think, Mr. Kopischke?”, offered Viviana.
         Kopischke agreed, “Ya. Probably should.”
         “No. I’ll go home first.”
         Torey rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up in an attempt to stand up. The pain was too much and he groaned as he fell back. Viviana waited quietly. He lay there for a couple minutes.
         Suddenly, his eyes wide with fear, Torey tried again, as he realized something was missing. “Oh no! Where are my shoes?”
         Viviana, startled, replied, “Shoes? Your shoes are on your feet.”
         “No. I bought two pair of shoes this morning. They are in a brown paper bag.”
         “You had them here?”, she asked, beginning to look around.
         “Yes. I had them when I got off the bus.”
         “What kind of bag?”
         “Just a plain brown paper bag.”
         Both Viviana and Kopischke started searching the area in front of and beside the store. This place really needs to be cleaned up, she thought. Quickly, she spotted a bag in the wind-blown litter piled against the front of the building, right at the spot where Kenly and Ramirez had cornered Torey. “Here they are,” she said.
         Viviana brought the bag and sat down beside Torey.
         “Thanks. I’m in enough trouble, already. I couldn’t stand to lose those shoes.
         “Lemme see what kind of shoes you bought, Campbell,” Viviana teased, opening the bag without waiting for permission. “Oh these are a nice pair ... for school?”
         “Yeah.”
         “… and what are these?”
         “Soccer cleats.”
         “You play soccer?”
         “Just starting,” Torey said with a sense of pride he hadn’t realized before.
         “Nice. I didn’t realize you were an athlete. So, what kind of trouble are you in?”, asked Viviana, returning to the subject.
         “I’m gonna catch hell from my father for fighting … and for being late for dinner,” said Torey, carefully omitting his trouble with Bertozzi.
         “But you’re hurt.”
         “Don’t matter. Viviana, thanks for helping me out.”
         “You’re welcome. Call me Vivi.”
         “Okay, Vivi”
         “I couldn’t leave a little guy like you lay there and bleed all over Mr. Kopischke’s sidewalk.”
         “I ain’t that little.”
         “Besides, who would I get to help me with my science paper?” Vivi said, smiling at Torey.
         “Oh yea -- the science paper. Well, I guess I owe you.” I like this girl – a lot!
         They both looked up, noticing Miles Hawkins approaching, bobbing along in his usual carefree manner.
         “Look at that Jive Walk,” said Torey, forgetting his pain for the moment and smiling at the sight.
         “He a friend of yours?”, asked Vivi.
         “Yeah, kinda.”
         Hawkins, still some distance away, waved and broke out in a big grin when he recognized Torey.
         “Hey man, why you sittin on the ground?” Miles called out as he approached.
         It only took a few more seconds for Hawkins to get close enough to see Torey’s condition. His face took on a look of horror. “Torey! What happened to your face?”
         “It got messed up Miles,” Torey replied, still having trouble talking.
         “Who did that … some of those jigaboos from over on Chester Avenue? They come over here looking for a fight?” Hawkins was jacked up, ready to go do battle.
         “No. Rufus Kenly and Nestor Ramirez rearranged it.”
         Kopischke was still in the scene, sweeping the sidewalk, having noticed Viviana’s distain when she picked up the bag of shoes. He entered the conversation with exasperation in his voice, “Those two are always here making trouble. They steal from my store too. I tell them to leave, they laugh at me. When I tell them I’m going to call the cops, they tell me I’ll be really sorry if I do that.”
         Miles looked at Torey, ignoring Kopischke. “Because …?”
         Torey quickly responded, “… because I interrupted their business.”
         “Bertozzi …?”
         “… because I interrupted their business,” Torey emphatically repeated himself, nodding toward Viviana, making it clear he wanted the conversation to end.
         “Oh, I see,” Miles meekly replied.
         Kopischke kept going, however, “Their business … Huh! Selling drugs on my corner. Them and that punk Bertozzi.”
         Viviana did not show any signs of picking up on this line of discussion. Torey wondered if it had passed her by, or if she avoided engaging on purpose. She turned her attention to trying to help Torey stand up.
         “Torey! Are you ready to try again to get on your feet?” she inquired, “Can you stand?”
         “I think so.”
         Viviana and Miles hoisted Torey to his feet and supported him while he stabilized himself. He wobbled for several seconds.
         “Need help getting home, buddy?” Hawkins asked.
         Torey replied, “No, I can make it. Thanks anyway.”
         “I guess I’ll see you in school Monday”, said Vivi, “I hope you’ll get those cuts taken care of.”
         “Yeah. Thanks again for your help Viviana … Vivi.”
         Vivi headed off along Archer Boulevard. She still had a three-block walk to reach home. Kopischke picked up the pan and pitched the bloody water into the gutter. Gathering up the towel and washcloth, he headed for his store with Hawkins following.
         Torey started down Fletcher Avenue for the very short walk to his house. He felt a strange attraction to this girl. Sensations deep inside he had never experienced before. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to talk to her. He liked her smell. He liked the sound of her voice and he thought she was pretty. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. Girls were silly. Boys didn’t play with girls, they teased them. Torey had just received the first physical beating of his life. He had experienced real fear and real anger. And he had yearnings for a girl. Torey was growing up.
###

Word Count: 2,050
Readability Consensus (based on 8 readability formulas)
         Grade Level: 4
         Reading Level: easy to read.
         Reader’s Age: 8-9 yrs. old (Fourth and Fifth graders)

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