The Unwanted move

It was a very sunny day, blazing hot when we moved to the new neighborhood. We moved across the country from Washington State to Georgia and I was not used to the heat and humidity. I wasn’t looking forward to going to the new school. Fortunately, though, we just had a full moon just before we traveled. The flight was ok and the moving truck arrived on time with all our stuff. This new town was really small. I spent the first part of my life in Seattle and boy was Mt Vernon different. For one, they only had one stoplight, two policemen (one day shift, the other night shift), and one fast-food restaurant. They had a couple of other places to eat but they were the mom and pop variety. And there was no traffic to speak of. I’ve never seen a sleepier, quiet town. They had one draw to the place, the local college, Midbury College. It was a tiny college that didn’t have too many people from other towns attend but it had enough draw that it gave some much-needed jobs and the students and faculty kept the local businesses afloat.
We had to move because I kept getting in trouble and it was getting harder and harder for me to control myself. My parents said it was due to the hormones of puberty though I didn’t care why I just wanted all the weird feelings to stop. And now I not only had to think about the moon phases but I also had to watch my anger to keep from turning at really bad times. My family happens to be werewolves and we’ve been able to keep a very low profile until recently. I didn’t start turning until a year or so ago and was able to rely on the full moon to know when I had to stay home and hunker down in a safe room. My parents could control themselves when they turned and were able to stay out of trouble. I couldn’t and we didn’t need a monthly rash of police calls about missing pets and wolf sightings. Recently I got into trouble when a kid at school was picking on me and I started to lose my temper. I didn’t turn fully but I got hairier and stronger. When I hit the boy he slammed backward into a locker, denting it. He was ok, just bruised up pretty good, but the school took him to the hospital just to be sure. With that, my dad got on the phone with the network (werewolves have to work together to survive) and within a couple of days had a job lined up with Midbury College. I was suspended for a week and came back in time for two last days of school. Sixth grade is tough enough without the bullies always after you. I just hoped I wouldn’t have the same kind of trouble at the new school.
Mt. Vernon Middle School was only a couple of blocks from the college so my dad would drop me off at school and when school let out I’d walk to the college and sit in dad’s office doing my homework. That was the plan we set up with a stern warning to keep my head down and my wits about me. With that warning still ringing in my ears, I walked up to the stairs leading into the middle school. I stopped at the doors and took a deep breath, pushed them open and, walked through.
The smell hit me before anything else. I was still getting used to the heightened sense of smell and while at times it comes in handy, alerting me to a bully before we see each other, it often is a drawback. Like now, with the dizzying array of aromas… the cooking food from the cafeteria, the sweat and mildew from the locker rooms in the gym, and the overwhelming stench of boys and girls going through puberty. I swallowed the bile in my throat and walked into the main office, just inside the entry doors. There was a long counter with a half door on one side containing some desks and offices. A portly woman with gray hair and glasses walked up to me as I was looking at an aerial photo of the school. I’d never seen a school set up like a three-leaf clover before.
The lady looked at me over her glasses. “Can I help you, young man?”
I looked up at her, “Yes, please. This is my first day and I don’t know where to go. My name is Brian Lacey.” Thanks to my boneheaded move at my old school we not only had to move across the nation but we had to change our names, identities, too.
The lady, Mrs. Benson by her name tag, looked at some papers and made noises as she thumbed through them.
“Yes, I see. Well, Brian, I can certainly help you. Here’s a map of the school.” She handed me a piece of paper and pointed to key spots. “Here we are. You’ll go down this hall and turn right. That’s C pod, for the sixth graders. Each pod has three individual pods. You’re in C1. Mr. Blight is your homeroom teacher. The common area in the pod is where you’ll have lunch. Don’t be concerned when you go through there and it’s empty. We bring lunch to you. When you have P.E. you’ll come back down this hallway and then instead of coming out here you’ll branch to the left and follow that hall down to the gym. Your coach…um…Coach Dorsey…he’ll show you the locker room so you can change. You did bring a set of gym clothes, didn’t you?”
“No ma’am. I didn’t know I needed them.” First day of school and they expected us to change clothes for gym? Things are different here. And from the smell of the locker rooms, I don’t think I’d ever have trouble finding them. But of course. I nodded along like I didn’t know anything. It wasn’t much of a stretch.
She tsk-tsked me and handed me my schedule of classes and said, “Well, since you just moved and it’s the first day you shouldn’t be in trouble. Just make sure to bring them with you, and a combination lock, tomorrow.” And with that, she sent me on my way.
I walked down the hall and found my way to Mr. Blight’s room. I told him who I was and handed him the paper I was told to give him and sat in my seat. He had assigned seats, alphabetized by the last name! That and his button-up shirt and bowtie had me thinking he was the high strung type. I wasn’t wrong. While I kept quiet and watched everyone, getting an idea of what that place was like Mr. Blight called out names in a clipped, efficient way that soon had everyone accounted for. We were not allowed to talk unless called on so there was only chit chat from the trouble makers. They got demerits and I got a heads up on who to watch out for. After 15 fairly silent minutes, the bell rang and looking at my schedule, I made my way to English class. I had Homeroom, English, Math, Science, Lunch (I was starving and the food was nasty, too much salt), Social studies, P. E., Art, and Home Ec. That was a long, long day. It was very tiring and long. Back at my old school, we had the classes broken up during the week, one class twice a week. Here we had every class, every day. Granted, the classes were a little shorter, about 45 minutes but still, every class every day? I thought it too much. Anyway, the day went pretty smoothly, even gym. I was allowed to sit out that day and not get a bad mark on my grade, as long as I “dressed out” the next day. The rest of the day was spent paying attention to the teacher and also paying attention to the trouble makers in each class and trying to avoid them in the halls between classes. All went well and when the last bell rang I was relieved to walk to my dad’s office. I had some math and science homework to do and a story for English to read. I just wish it wasn’t so hot. I was drenched in sweat by the time I got to dad’s office. The walk didn’t take but 3 minutes. But I was drenched like water had been poured over me. The air conditioning in the office felt so, so good.
After a couple of hours and math and science, homework was done, I sat reading The Monkey’s Claw as dad opened the door.
“Hey, sport. I have one more class to teach and then we’ll go home. How was your day and how’s the homework coming?”
“Fine dad, I only have my reading left. School was…fine. I kept my head down and my wits about me. I scoped out the potential bullies and avoided them”
“Good job, sport. I knew you’d be ok. Just remember that at some point you won’t be able to avoid them and you’ll have to control your temper. That goes for your teachers, too.”
“I know dad. Trust me; I’m sorry I ever pushed Tommy into the lockers. As bad as school was there I’d rather be back in Seattle.”
“I know son. But at least you learned your lesson, right?” Dad cocked one eyebrow at me.
“Right dad, I learned.”
With that, he closed the door and I went back to reading.

The next day started fine. Even lunch was fine since I brought my own. The trouble started when I had to change for gym class. I had just finished changing into shorts and tee-shirt when I smelled and then heard the guy coming up behind me. I recognized the smell and it wasn’t any of the guys I’d watched yesterday.
“Hey, you’re the new kid, right?”
I turned and looked at the boy behind me. He was my height, blond, muscular, and had a smirk marring his face. I thought, Oh no, not again.
“Yeah, I’m Brian. Who are you?”
“I’m Jake and I want to know why you moved. I want to know that and then I want you to lick my shoe.” Jake folded his arms and while waiting for my reply he put his right foot forward expecting me to lick his shoe.
“I got in trouble for fighting. I’m not going to lick your shoe. I don’t care what you say.”
Jake’s eyes darkened and his lips pursed. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“I’m not going to fight you. I’m going to go to class and you can lick your own shoe.” I turned and started walking away when I suddenly lurched forward as I felt a blow on my shoulder blade.
I turned back around in time to catch a fist flying at my head. I deftly caught it and held it, repeating, “I’m not going to fight you.” Instead, I squeezed his hand until he winced. I let go and turned to go to class.
“Hey,” he yelled, “you can’t do that!” And he ran at me.
Of course, I heard him coming and stepped out of the way causing him to slam into the door and bounce off. In an instant Coach Dorsey was in the locker room bellowing “What happened here?!”
“Coach, Jake tried to get me to lick his shoe and when I wouldn’t he hit me. I told him I wouldn’t fight and he ran at me. I stepped out of the way and he bounced off the door. The only time I touched him was when I caught his fist as he tried to punch me.”
Coach looked around the room at the other boys and asked, “Is that what all y’all saw?”
Everyone nodded.
“Jake. My office, now! The rest of you, go sit on the bleachers until I get there. Do not move, do not act up. Coach Watts will be keeping an eye on you.”
It wasn’t long before Coach Dorsey was back. Jake, I later found out, had three days of detention and a vendetta against me. No one else wanted to mess with me though. It spread quickly that I moved because of fighting and caught Jake’s fist. So Jake was the only one I had to watch out for now and I kept out of trouble, didn’t fight. I only protected myself. Even mom couldn’t fault me for what I did. Once Coach was back we ran a few laps around the gym and then shot hoops.

That night at dinner mom and dad talked to me about the phone call from the school. While I didn’t get into trouble there they did call my parents to let them know what happened.
“Son, I’m proud of you for not backing down and for finding a way out of the fight. I’m especially proud of you for not losing your temper. Good job, sport”.
Mom shook her head, slightly. “While I’m glad you didn’t fight I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just walk away.”
“Mom, he wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t have a chance to walk away. I tried. Twice.”
“Beverly, Brian did all he could. I heard about this boy, Jake. He’s always picking fights and trying to run the sixth grade. Everyone seems to be scared of him. It took a lot of guts, and self-control, to do what Brian did.”
“Yeah, mom, I tried. He just wouldn’t let up. But I didn’t hulk out or anything. I used my natural strength and his momentum against him. That’s all.”
“But, Brian, that’s the thing. Your natural strength, even when you don’t…hulk up, as you say… is stronger than a regular boy’s strength. You have to be more careful.”
“Ok,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
And that’s just what I did. I did my best to avoid Jake in classes and for gym I got dressed and out the door quickly into the gym. Jake, as tough as me might have been, was also a sneaky coward. He picked on people when not in sight of teachers.

My luck ran out two weeks later when Jake caught me on the way to my dad’s office.
“Hey, chicken! You got lucky before but now I’m gonna wipe the pavement with you!”
I turned to see Jake running after me. I stopped and waited for him. He never slowed down. I guess he never learns. Just as he got to me I stepped to the side and stuck out my foot. He went head over heels and landed all sprawled out. By this time people started to stop and watch. I remembered I had to keep my cool and not turn. The next full moon was a week and a half away so I had better control.
“I’m still not going to fight you, Jake. I don’t have a beef with you and don’t want to hurt you,” I said while waiting for him to get up. He groaned as he did so, bleeding from several scrapes. And he had added to some nasty bruises he was collecting.
“Stop all this crap and fight me like a man!”
“A real man knows when to fight and when not to” Thanks, dad, for that bit to throw back at him.
Jake got up and threw a haymaker at me, which I deftly side-stepped. When he regained his balance he looked confused, “Why won’t you fight me? What gives? Aren’t you tough enough?”
I shook my head. “Jake, I’m tough enough to not fight, not get into any more trouble. And most of all…you aren’t worth the extra sweat I’d work up fighting you. You just aren’t worth it.”
With that, all the air seemed to escape him. He actually looked deflated and stared at me, with a dumbfounded look, as I walked away. He didn’t come after me. He just stood there and I never had any more trouble with him. And since I stood up to him and never took one of his famous beatings, I gained a higher status than he had. Well, he pretty well dropped to the bottom of the ladder as others no longer took his crap, either. Only those that couldn’t hold their own backed down. And that was only when I or one of the other guys wasn’t around to have their back. This school, this town, wasn’t so bad after all. If only we could do something about the heat.