Beast and Dog-Boy

Listen to me, because I’ve worked hard on this story for you. Yes, you. I even tried to tailor it to your specific reading taste. No lie!

“How so?” you query skeptically, as you are already thinking this is really dumb.

I know your fickle moods regarding a new book. Sometimes you aren’t in the mood for the boring slog of a lot of blah, blah, blah setup stuff. Instead, you want to sail right into the main story, without having to read any amateurish, preface-type information dumps. Go on ahead to chapter one if that’s what you're feeling like right now. This story is written so that I think you will be able to follow along if you do.

Yet, perhaps this is a time when you aren’t in a mad hurry, and you’re feeling an abundance of info would be worth the time and wait. In other words, you’re currently craving being armed with every dissecting factoid before you tackle this weirdly titled story and its cast of misfit, yet extremely loveable, characters. If that is how your mindset is presently, well then why don’t you just meander into the Introduction, and then peruse around Valerie’s Backstory for a while as well.

Anyway, regardless of where you start, enjoy!


Introduction

This is the story of Valerie, and I wish to begin with an apology. I’m sorry that I, a rather unremarkable, elderly man, am the one who has to record the events of an extraordinary, young woman. I think and fear my perspective as such may tarnish the accuracy of recounting her story.

Yet my feelings of compunction and my qualms about this only go so far, because her story is a TRUE story. She existed, so frankly I can’t figure out why nobody else ever decided to chronicle it. Many people knew her, went to school with her, or taught her. Some teased her mercilessly, others grew to respect and admire her, and so on. None of those people ever decided to write anything about her. I find this mystifyingly perplexing, as I think Valerie’s life makes for a fascinating story, and one of great import too.

Thus, the “burden” to tell and share her story fell upon me, so don’t criticize me if you don’t like how I tell it, because now I’ve completely changed my mind about being contrite and I don’t want to hear any of it. And don’t blame me if I didn’t, for instance, capture her thoughts properly - or likewise, if I’m messing up some of the profound or crucial elements of her story. I mean, the girl’s a genius, so sometimes when she’s babbling to moi, it’s like I’m a child and my adults who lord over are spelling out all their words because they’re scheming and plotting about taking me to the dentist.

I’m not usually dusted by such high falutin’ talk, but I have to admit, Val has the ability to kick it up into an intellectual gear I do not possess. Kind of hard for me to accurately recount events and relay what was said and done by a person like that.

Despite my misgivings, if you think you still want to come along for her ride, if you are willing to give her tale a chance as told by me, I have just one last bit of red tape to clear up before we can finally proceed.

You should be warned, most of Valerie’s adolescent life is a grim arc that descends into shocking existential suffering. Sadly, there is no sugar coating that, as that is the truth.


Valerie’s Backstory

Valerie’s mother died soon after she gave birth to her, and her father was long gone before she was born. So, since her infancy, she lived with her grandparents, on a quiet farm that was worked less and less by them as they grew older.

They were poor. They lived off of her grandparents’ small pensions, paltry social security checks, and the little money they made from the farming they still did. Nevertheless, they managed to get by without too much hard want.

And such lack of means is always easier to bear when shared with loved ones, as Valerie, her grandmother, and her grandfather were to each other to near perfection.

Their farm was peaceful and remote. It was one of those farms that managed to stubbornly hold on in our modern times where so many areas are being slowly but surely suburbanized by families who want a short commute to the nearest growing city.

Their old farm house was off a dirt road, a half a mile down from the “main road,” not that it was much of a main road itself, as oil and stone sufficed for few cars that traveled it.

Valerie’s bumpy, country road continued for another half mile to where another equally old farmhouse abutted it. This was the only other house on the road. It was Mr. Wezelll’s house. He lived there alone as he had no family. For much of Valerie’s life, he would be her only friend.

Then Valerie’s road wound for another quarter mile to where it merged straight into an old logging road no longer in use. That logging road started as two dirt, wheel tracks with coarse grass in between. It slowly became rougher along the way, until larger potholes appeared, and the grass and weeds made their way further into those two tracks, the brambles and bushes pushing further into the road.

That road went nowhere, and yet it did not really end. It just grew more tangled and pathlike. When Valerie followed it, as she did often as a child, it just seemed to gradually disappear into the natural curves and deer paths between the breaks of the trees in those quiet woods.

Since Valerie’s home, her caregivers, and her “neighborhood” were safe, placid, and somewhat distant, as they only involved her grandparents and Mr. Wezell, school became everything to her in terms of peer socialization. Luckily, as a young girl, her prettiness was undeniable and complete. She was lithe, blonde, doe-brown eyed, fair skinned, and flawless. We all know what this means, this brought her an instant measure of acceptance with her classmates in school, particularly with the boys. Although she was shy, she was also thoughtful and kind, so she became friendly with most of the girls as well. She was even able to win over the small number of girls who at first viewed her as a “rival” for boys’ attention as, once they got to know her, those alpha girls quickly dismissed her as a threat.

Her kindness endeared her with her teachers as well, even though she was an unremarkable student.

But from kindergarten on, as she marched through the grades, all of this started to change. As she grew older her sunny blonde hair grew darker and dingier. Through the years it grew greasier as well, and no matter how many times she washed it, it would lay limp and oily within an hour.

Her sharp, delicate nose slowly flattened until it became broad and flared. She put on weight and her figure became pear shaped and matronly. She grew too tall as well, so much so, eventually only the tallest of the boys surpassed her height. Where she had skipped and danced lightly as a small girl, by the age of ten she lumbered ploddingly.

She had a double chin and jowls by age eleven. She developed bad acne at age twelve. At age thirteen she... well you get the picture, in that she was not as pretty as any picture anymore.

As this slow march into the loss of her outward beauty continued, another strange thing happened to her too. Where previously she had been an average student, she grew into a gifted one. The school work started to come very easily to her. By the third grade she was daydreaming her way through school, but when a test was put in front of her, she just breezed through it with no effort. Her teachers and the administration suggested she skip the fourth grade to go into the fifth, and her amenable, proud grandparents did not oppose this.

Then the school administrators had her skip the eighth grade as well, so she could go into the high school’s ninth grade honors classes they deemed she needed.

In one way this was good for her. By this time she was so big and tall, moving her up another grade helped her stick out a little less among those older students.

But every year, as her homilyness and intellectual gifts increased, her isolation increased as well, so her previous friends dropped one by one to the wayside. Those advancements in grade did not help with this either, as each time she skipped a grade, she was placed into classes with older students she didn’t know.

Her ostracism grew until she was completely friendless. Students avoided her like the plague, as they knew not doing so could lead to others thinking you were her friend. She was unattractive, too smart, poor, and weird (they thought). This made her the lowest of the lows. Nobody wished this for themselves by associating with her. Eventually, she was the proverbial child who ate at a lunchroom table alone.

Was she outright bullied and teased, when not ostracized and ignored? Yes, quite a lot, I’m sad to say. “Beast,” was the favored moniker used by her classmates for her on such occasions.

I can feel your outrage. How can I tell such an awful story!? Hey, it’s not my fault. I didn’t make any of this up. I am but a mere scribe, trying to simply recount and record a history for you, so don’t blame me for being “mean-spirited” as I am only relaying the truth.

And you may be thinking with aghast - How did her teachers ignore such cruelty?! Some didn’t. For instance, when she was fifteen and during her “eleventh” grade, Mr. Will took her weeping from the lunchroom as a group of mean girls had hurled food and insults at her there one day. Then he went to the principal and got all of those girls’ three detentions a piece.

Mr. Will’s good intentions only backfired of course, as those girls took out their future revenge upon Valerie in covert subterfuge. When engaging in heated arguments with boys who had dared cross them, “Valerie’s boyfriend” became their go-to insult. Soon other girls picked up on this and used this as a favorite put down when they beefed with boys as well.

Val had gym class with two of those previously mentioned lunch room mean girls, and the locker room scene that year was brutal for her.

She did appreciate Mr. Will’s efforts though, and she did get to eat her lunch in his classroom for the rest of her eleventh grade, away from the chaos of the lunchroom. She recognized Mr. Will’s attempt at kindness, but she knew he could not make other students like her.

Now it is the beginning of her final year of high school, and it’s back to the lunchroom jungle for her, as Mr Will has taken another teaching job somewhere else. We all know the story, there aren’t enough Mr. Wills in the world to go around.

And that reminds me, and with this I will end her backstory and begin her present story. I need to correct one mistake I made. I said that Valerie, slowly, over time, changed in every way. She did not.

That she went from; outwardly beautiful to physically ugly, from an average to amazingly gifted student, from accepted to rejected, and from happy to despairingly miserable - all that I got right.

But in one way she didn’t change, she remained kind. Somehow, when faced with either the indifferent isolation of some, or the focused cruelty of others, she retained her perfect inner beauty, and she was always kind to others.

Nevertheless, and as we pick-up on her current story, her sadness is mounting and her kindness is not enough

Presently, her soul is cracking to its core.


Chapter One - Dog-Boy

The heat and light from behind Valerie’s window’s shade roused her and she woke. She was already emotionally wiped.

She tried to go back to sleep to escape consciousness, but she could not. Then she took a small measure of relief in remembering it was Sunday.

She got out of bed, dressed, then went downstairs. The old, wooden steps creaked beneath her. Try as hard as she could, she could not get them to be silent under her. Everytime she climbed or descended them, they all but cried out that she was a behemoth.

She found her grandparents eating at their kitchen table. They greeted her with the relaxed warmth of the powerless old. She greeted them with the sad, appreciation of a defeated youth. Toast and eggs were already in her spot. She ate them woodenly.

She gathered all of their plates when done. She washed them by hand. She put the kitchen in order.

Then she went outside and collected the hens’ eggs. She milked their last remaining goat. Next she spent some time working their large vegetable garden, cleaning up the chicken coop, and then the farmyard. In doing all this, she gave her grandfather the day off from his routine chores.

By early afternoon she was done. She contemplated what to do for “fun.”

Taking a book out into the woods or walking down to see Mr. Wezell were the two things that had any chance of bringing her some joy. Neither had worked lately. The novels she read were no longer sucking her into their escapist worlds as they did so many times in the past. And lately, she hated dragging her sorry ass into Mr Wezell’s presence and faking a happy smile, so as to not bring him down too.

But she was desperate, so Mr. Wezell would just have to suffer. She began to walk down the dirt road to his home.

When she arrived she saw him out in his yard. He was old, wizened, brown and leathery. He was short, and when she stood next to him, she towered over him. He was gnome-like, and currently his pointed nose was buried into the tractor’s engine he was working on.

Despite this, and the fact that he had his back to her and needed to stand upon a rickety, short ladder to work upon his tractor’s engine, he somehow sensed her approaching. He greeted her first. “Morning, Queen-Child,” he said, without bothering to turn around.

She was relieved that she didn’t have to try to whip up a forced smile. His greeting got a genuine one from her.

When he unburied his grease smudged, sharp nose from his engine and turned to her, she saw he too had a big smile on his face. But his smile vanished quickly, and he became thoughtful.

From atop his short ladder he said absentmindedly, “You are getting more beautiful by the day…”

She froze as he said this, and pins pricked her neck. Every so often he would say something like this to her, and this always confused her. And, somehow, it always gave her chills as well.

“Is it the raging cystic acne? Coupled with the two hundred and forty pound frame, right?” she joked after she shook off this eerie feeling.

“No!” Mr Wezell cried immediately and sharply. This shocked her, as this was the closest he had ever come to yelling at her.

He must have seen her surprise. He said quietly, “Forgive me child, that came out louder than I meant.”

She smiled a little. “It’s OK,” she said.

Mr. Wezell looked at her strangely for a time, standing still upon his ladder. As such he was “taller” than her. This gave her a warm and right feeling, as he had been a kind patriarch to her since she could remember.

He squinted at her for a time, and then he climbed down his ladder. Now she stood above him again and that comforting feeling left her. As he peered up at her, she almost became afraid.

He said, “It isn’t OK. I need you to tell me you forgive me, for raising my voice to you…”

She said, “But you didn’t, not really…”

Mr Wenzell said nothing to her, and he merely looked up at her.

Valerie was brilliant, and while some would have been confused in such a situation, she knew exactly what he was waiting for.

She said softly, “I forgive you.”

He nodded his head as if this was good and right. Then he did something he had never done before. He closed upon her, and he hugged her. And for some time he did not let go.

His head arose no higher than her bosom, but his hug was...manly. It made her feel femanine, like a daughter being hugged by her father. Because of this, she wept.

He just let her cry for a time and he held her tight, until she was cried out.

When done, he let go of her. He stepped back. He looked up into her eyes. He gave her a sly grin as he eyes’ sparkled. He said, “Child, how would you like to hear some good news?”

As she wiped her tears away, she asked, “Are you kidding?”

His smile grew bigger (if that was possible) and he said, “I am moving away from here, and perhaps very soon.”

“No,” she gasped in horror. In her mind she firmly decided that she would finally make good on her plans and kill herself if he did. The only thing that had been holding her back until then was the mental image of her grandparents mourning her loss. They would just have to grieve, she couldn’t take it all anymore.

And as if to mock her darkest of thoughts, Mr. Wezell said while laughing, “Yup, I’m finally out of here, and soon.”

“Where are you going?” she asked him as she shook.

“Sorry child, I can’t tell you that, but I will say that it’s far away,” he said.

Tears streamed down her face anew. “Why can’t you tell me? Are you in trouble with the law or something?” she asked.

He tipped his head sideways in thinking about this, and then he smiled, almost as if he liked the sound of that. He said, “Yeah, I guess that would be the best way to describe it actually!”

“Well, if you can’t or won’t tell me where you’re going, will you at least come back and visit sometime?” she asked as she balled.

“I hope to see you again eventually, but we need to face facts, that might not happen. I’m ancient and feeble, I might keel over before I do get a chance to do that, and if I ever do come back, it will not be for some time,” he said.

She asked him as she shook wretchedly, “How in the world is that good news for me?”

Mr. Wezell gave her a sympathetic smile, yet it was a knowing smile. He said, ”Well, me moving out means someone else is moving in. You have been so very down as late.” Then his expression changed and he got mad and said (more to himself than her), “I told those jackasses, time and time again, that they were waiting too long, but those self-absorbed fools ignored me, of course. Pain was the result. Anyway, all that pain is about to be smoothed out. And just in the nick of time.”

Then his eyes refocused on her and he said, “Listen child, and know this, you are about to become very, very happy.”

She froze as he said this. She didn’t know what, or who, he was talking about. And she didn’t believe him because, besides her grandparents, he was the person she loved the most, and he was her only friend.

She was about to ask him what he meant, when he raised his hand and said, “Forgive me, the ramblings of an old man. Let us say that this will be my moving day, cause it will be soon even if I don’t exactly know when. Let’s say goodbye today, in case we don’t get another day. I’ll start. Child, I am going to miss you so much.”

And, of course, this got the old waterworks flowing from her again. And again, Mr. Wezell helped her recover. Then they spent the afternoon, hanging out and talking about many things on his porch while drinking lemonade and eating snacks on that beautiful, early September day. They reminisced, and then, as twilight fell, she left to sadly walk home.


The next morning Valerie woke up almost exactly as she had done the day before. Except it was Monday.

She went downstairs and made herself a lousy lunch for school. She woodenly ate the breakfast her grandmother made for her, then she left the house.

She walked up the dirt road to where it met the oil and stone road to her bus stop. As she rounded the last winding turn, which then allowed her to view her stop, she went cold with dread.

A large boy, with his back to her, was standing there.

She contemplated turning back and running to Mr. Wezell’s house. Then she realized she could get quicker information by talking to this boy.

She broke into a ponderous run and she was out of breath by the time she reached him. He turned around as she neared him.

The first thing she noticed about him were his eyes. They were a light, water blue. His hair was brown. He looked about her age and he was tall, although he did not quite reach her height. What he was was very solid. She thought his center of gravity was probably one of his big toes.

He had a somewhat listless demeanor and she thought he was perhaps slow. Nevertheless, she asked him in a panic, “Who are you? And what are you doing at my stop?”

The boy looked at her for a moment, and then he said something that sounded like a frightening, guttural growl.

She froze as he said this, and she went from panicked to afraid.

The boy merely looked at her with his water blue eyes.

A very afraid Valerie managed to ask him quietly, “What did you say?”

The boy looked at her for a moment and then he barked the same thing, and it was just as frightening and animalistic as the first time, and unintelligible.

She froze in fear before him. He looked at her for a time. Then he crouched down, picked up a stick, and she watched in fascinated horror as he started scratching something into the dirt in the road.

When he was done, she said quietly, “Drew, your name is Drew.”

The boy remained in his squat position for a moment as he stared at his crudely printed name. Then he said, “Drew.” It was somewhat clearer to her now.

She stared at him in stunned amazement for a time. He arose, looked at her for a moment, then he turned to look to where the bus should come from.

“Where do you live?” she asked in a panic.

The boy pointed behind him to Mr. Wezell’s house.

She cracked a broken sob. “No,” she said pathetically.

The boy nodded his head yes.

Then the bus appeared, heading down the oil and stone road to them.

She was still weeping when its doors opened for her and the boy.

She stood there balling. The boy just stood there.

“Today,” said the bus driver to the two of them through his opened doors, as he was young, hated his job, and was an asshole.

Valerie tried to reign in her crying as she boarded the bus. She failed.

She sat right behind the bus driver, not that this offered her any protection from the rest of the kids on the bus. The two sixth graders, Dan and Dave, were in the seat behind her, and they were ready to do their thing.

“Hey look, Beast is already crying,” said Dan to Dave.

Then they saw Drew climbing the steps, and they went quiet as his size. But he said nothing to them, and he simply sat in the empty front seat across the aisle from Valerie.

The bus was nearly full. The older kids in the back laughed raucously, probably at the both of them, but then they went back to their own current nonsense.

When Dan and Dave recovered from Drew’s appearance, and when he seemed oblivious to them, they began to put crap they retrieved from the bus’s floor in Valerie’s hair as they teased her. She lost it, and started crying more.

Most everyone ignored her, including the bus driver, although a few of the kids in the nearest seats started laughing as well. A lone, small girl said they were all being mean bullies, and this only made those children laugh more.

Then Drew arose from his seat next to her. She watched as he effortlessly picked Dan up by his armpits and plopped him in the next seat back. Then he picked up a stunned Dave by the armpits, and placed him there as well. Then he sat back down behind an equally stunned Valerie, where the two boys had been.

All of the bus went quiet at this feat of strength.

The bus driver was the first to recover. “No standing while the bus is in motion, junior,” he said.

Drew looked at him as the driver viewed him through his mirror. Their eyes met, and then Drew growled like an animal while giving him a cold stare.

The growl was wolf-like, and the bus went quiet again. This made most everyone afraid. Valerie sat frozen before him, afraid as well

Only the small girl seemed unfazed. “Dat was awesome,” she said to Drew, breaking the silence. “And you da the worstest, meanest bus driver ebber,” she said to said driver. “I’m tellin’ my dad on you!”

This broke the spell as some of the kids on the bus laughed. A few of the older, bigger kids in the back, and in a pack, began to call Drew “Dog-Boy.” Valerie heard the occasional “Beast” thrown in there toward her just for “good” measure as well.

However, when he had finished staring down the unsettled bus driver, Drew seemed to not hear their taunts.

Dan and Dave grew fascinated by Drew and they asked him a million questions until they got to school. Drew ignored them, and seemed not to be bothered by this as well.

When the bus arrived at school and parked at the drop off zone, a confused and scared Valerie arose and ran off the bus first. Drew then stood, and in doing so he displayed a flash of speed. He blocked the aisle from the rest of the students from exiting out.

He stared at the bigger, older students in the back who had been taunting him and Valerie, as if to dare them to leave past him now. His gaze was serious and eerie. Those older children went silent, and still.

The bus driver was about to say something to him, but just as he went to speak, Drew met his eyes again with an icy stare.

Everyone on the bus was hushed. Drew crouched down a little and watched as Valerie ran through the school’s doors.

Then his water blue eyes went rather dull, and then he left the bus, rather normally.


Valerie sat through first period Calculus and thought of nothing but Mr. Wezell and Drew through its entirety. When the bell rang she quickly made for the door. Second period was college credit European Studies and it was on the other side of the school. It was hard to get to her locker and then make it there on time.

When she neared her locker, Mike and Olivia were necking in front of it, and so they blocked it.

She stood there a moment fighting against herself, then she asked meekly, “Would you two please move. I need to get to my locker.”

Mike, mad at her interruption, gave her a nasty look and didn’t move. Olivia tittered like an idiot, although she did step aside.

And then out of nowhere, Drew had Mike by his left shoulder and pushed him out of the way as he gave a displeased growl. Mike could feel Drew’s strength and he stumbled a little as he moved him aside.

“Fuck you, you big oaf,” Mike said as he contemplated sucker punching this new kid.

Drew stared at him dully, then he did something funny. He leaned, ever so slightly, toward Mike as he gave him a stare. He raised his hand to make a “mouth” with it, and then he opened it and closed it to make a running mouth taunt.

Mike instantly went to slap his hand away, but Drew deftly caught his wrist. Mike could not budge his arm. Now he was afraid. Valerie was too, and she hurriedly opened her locker, threw her math stuff in there and rummaged out her European Studies things. She closed her locker shut and relocked it.

She took a moment to look at Drew. Currently he was looking at her and ignoring the frozen Mike. She looked in his eyes and she thought she saw that he was looking for...approval?

She surprised even herself when she said, ”Thanks.”

Drew nodded his head. He turned to look back at Mike. Mike was half seething and half shitting his pants. His face was red and he couldn’t move his arm, as Drew held it absolutely still.

Drew pulled Mike back in front of Valerie’s locker where he had been, and then he gently pulled Olivia back to Mike as well, allowing him to save some face in front of Olivia and the few students that had taken note. Then he turned his back upon both of them.

“Thanks again,” said Valerie to him as she ignored Mike now as well.

Then Drew did something that warmed her. He smiled at her.

She smiled back. And as she lumbered off to class she felt strangely good, and she wondered if this was how girlfriends sometimes felt.


She did not see Drew for the next period change. She couldn’t imagine how he was doing in his classes - to say the least!

And then it was lunch time. She made her way to the lunchroom and sat at her untouchable table alone.

Soon she froze when she saw Drew enter through the lunchroom doors. He looked around until he saw her. He made his way to her table and he sat down next to her.

Many of the lunchroom’s students’ eyes were on him and some of those students broke out in laughter at this. Her face blushed crimson.

Drew just sat there quietly, and unreadable. He seemed unconcerned and unaware of the other students in the lunchroom.

She whispered to him, “Listen, I’m like the school leper. If you sit here with me, it will cause you trouble in making friends.”

He said nothing to this. She glanced at him and he seemed to not understand her.

She was confused as well. She noticed he had nothing with him. With her face still burning, she said, “Do you want half?” as she raised up half of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Drew stared at her for a time not understanding. Then he got it. He took the half from her and began to eat it.

She said quietly, “What is this? Is this some kind of joke? Is Mr. Wezell behind this?”

Drew said nothing to this and he took another bite from the sandwich.

She sat in silence as he finished the half sandwich. Then she pushed the other half of her sandwich toward him while saying, “You can have that too. Ironically enough, I’m not hungry.”

He stared at the other half sandwich she had pushed in front of him. Then he looked into her eyes. She froze as he did so.

Without removing his eyes from hers, he slid the half a sandwich back in front of her. Then he removed his eyes from hers to watch some students dig out coveted, cold-gold from the cafeteria’s ice cream freezer.

She did something she had not done in school for a long time. She chuckled. And then she began to eat her half.

She asked Drew in fear, “Did you and your family really move into Mr. Wezell’s house?”

He nodded his head.

“How is that possible?” she asked. “That’s too fast.”

He said nothing to this.

She cried a little, and he said nothing while she did this. Now he seemed to her to be so placid he was almost comatose.

“How old are you?” she asked him.

“Sixteen,” he said in a rough voice that was barely understandable. She froze as he said this for he sounded almost like an animal.

A few of the students at tables near to them heard him, and they went still at his voice as well.

“Are you deaf? Can you hear?” she asked as she could not figure out why he sounded so strange.

He shook his head no.

She said in fear, “You are quite the mystery, aren’t you?”

He said nothing to this either.

She sat perplexed, sad-quiet, and in thought. She looked at Drew. Still he looked away from her, and he was looking at the students who had paid for, and were now unwrapping and eating, their ice cream cones.

Meanwhile she knew students were giggling and laughing at them. She caught snatches of “Dog-Boy” and “Beast” from here and there.

Drew seemed indifferent to this.

Her brow furrowed deeply. She couldn’t make any sense of this.

Then she heard his stomach growl.

“You should have eaten my other half. That’s all I brought,” she said.

He pointed to the large freezer that held the lunchroom’s ice cream cones.

“Sorry, ice creams cost money,” she said. “And I don’t have any on me.”

Drew reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. He stared at it for a time, and then he slid it over the table to her.

She laughed and said, “That should be enough. Go over and get yourself a dozen!”

He remained seated and he looked as if he did not understand.

She said quietly to him, “Listen, this is what you do. You go over there, get what you want from the freezer, and then go over to the lunch lady there, show her what you got, hand her your money, and get your change. Then you eat away. Get it?”

He did not get it. His stomach rumbled again.

She stood up and her face burned. She took the fifty from off the table and then she indicated with her hand that he should follow her.

He stood up and followed her to the glass topped freezer.

Valerie, as she could only imagine in horror how many looks were upon them now, opened the freezer’s lid for Drew. “Pick whatever ice cream you want,” she whispered hurriedly.

He stood before the freezer looking stupid. He didn’t move. She heard the word “retarded” rise from a table and the students at it laughed. Her face burned more and her stomach churned.

She reached in and pulled out two nutty butties for him. She handed them to him. Then she closed the lid and started to make her way over to the lunch lady at the cash register..

But she had taken only a step when Drew grabbed her upper arm. She was halted instantly by his strength. He pulled her back to the freezer.

He let go of her arm and now he opened the freezer’s lid himself. He looked at her as he pointed into it.

Her face burned and she pulled out a nutty butty for herself. “Happy now?” she whispered to him.

He looked at the nutty butty in her hand. Then he reached in and pulled out another and handed it to her. Then he closed the lid.

Despite her mortification, she smiled at him. They made their way over to the lunch lady.

She paid the lunch lady and there was thirty four dollars in change. As she made to hand it back to Drew, he shocked her when he said, “No.”

And again his voice sounded deep, rough and strange.

She froze while holding the money awkwardly. The lunch lady smiled warmly at Drew as she knew Valerie’’s plight well. The lunch lady cooed, “He wants you to keep the rest, honey! That’s sugar-daddy stuff! What a dear!”

Valerie quickly shoved the money into her pocket, not that she was going to keep it for long.

“Come on,” she whispered to him so that they could get back to their table without drawing any further attention.

As they made their way back to their table, Drew stopped short. She turned and motioned that he should follow her.

“No,” he said again in his guttural, jarring voice.

“What now?” she whispered as she rolled her eyes.

He pointed to the outside where some students were eating out on the lawn.

“No way,” she said. “That’s where the cool kids eat. We’ll be eaten alive out there.”

Drew just stood there with his two nutty butties in hand and he said, “Yes.”

They had not gotten far enough away from the lunch lady and she was still plugged in to them. She called to her, “Go on, honey! Get some fresh air and sunshine!”

“Oh my God,” she whispered as many students laughed openly at them. “Fine,” she said breathlessly as she took Drew by his forearm and dragged him toward the doors to the outside.

Halfway there she noted how ridiculously hard his arm was. Then they stepped outside and into the sunshine.

She was surprised that now outside, the cackles and catcalls stopped. Many of the students eating out there looked at them, but none made fun of them.

Janice Ewing actually smiled at them as they approached her group. “Hey Val!” she called out. “Who’s your friend?”

Her face burned and burned. She said, “Drew,” as she dragged him through the groups of students.

As they neared closer to her group, Janice said, “Hi Drew! I’m Janice. Hey Val, nice snag!”

She took no offense as Janice meant none. Janice was good hearted, despite the fact that she was popular and pretty. And when she and Drew walked past Janice’s group, Janice’s boyfriend, Rob, said something to Janice under his breath.

Then she turned her head and watched as Janice hit Rob really hard on his arm, and despite the fact that he was a tough, tall football player, Rob said, “Oww! Those fucking punches hurt, Babe. And watch the throwing arm.”

She smiled a little at this, Janice really was really a good egg.

Meanwhile, she continued dragging Drew past the rest of the clustered groups of students until they were out of earshot of them all.

Mr. Horice, who was on outside lunch duty, called to them, “Val, that’s as far as you can go!”

She nodded her head, then she sat down in defeat upon the lawn. She began to unwarp one of her ice creams. “Take a load off,” she said to Drew.

He stood motionless for a moment. Then he sat down, cross legged, next to her.

She froze as he did so and her skin tingled. She was not used to people sitting close to her.

He watched her for a moment, then he slowly started to unwrap one of his nutty butty’s, like she had started doing.

And then she felt a wave of warmth rush over her. Despite his weirdness and the absurdity of all this, there was something soothing about Drew. And she was starting to gather that not only was he not dumb, but he was actually quite smart. Something other than a lack of intelligence was the cause of his seemingly clueless behavior.

They ate their first ice creams in silence. Then they unwrapped their second ones and started in on them too.

“So what’s your story?” she asked him quietly. “Are you from another country?”

His eyes raised to hers, but he seemed to not know what she meant. He looked away from her.

“Talk to me, Drew.” she said. “Why are you being so nice to me? Why are you helping me? Why did you move into Mr Wezell’s house?”

He raised his eyes to her. Again he seemed to not know what she was asking him. He was thinking deeply though, she could feel and see it. Then she realized something amazing. He was just looking at her and thinking. He was thinking about something and looking at her, and whatever he was thinking about was not that she was incredibly ugly. He seemed immune to it. He was looking at her like she was a normal girl.

Then he strained and an almost pained look came across his face. “How old are you?” he croaked. Instantly she realized in saying this, he was trying to say it exactly as she had said it to him this morning.

She froze in amazement. Then she was just able to get out, “I’m sixteen. Just like you.”

He nodded his head, then he took another bite of his ice cream. She watched him for a time, and her ice cream began to drip down her hand without her knowing it.

Drew was not looking at her now, his eyes were downward. He was thinking some more as he finished his ice cream. She could see he was winding up for another pitch. She almost couldn’t breathe in anticipation.

As he swallowed the last bite of his nutty butty, he said, “Good,” His voice was quieter and not so harsh this time, almost as if he was getting better at speaking, she thought.

She looked at his face very closely and she said quietly, “Yeah, ice cream is good.”

He raised his eyes to hers and he said, “No.” She went stiff. He pointed to her, then he pointed to himself, then he pointed to the outside they were in. He pointed to each of those again. “Good,” he said to her in his rough voice again.

She asked in a hushed voice, “Do you mean it’s good to be outside here, with me?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “Yes,” he said again. Then he leaned toward her and looked into her eyes. She now saw that his eyes did not look dull, but they looked sharp. He leaned just a little closer toward her and he said, “With you.”

She blushed very deeply at this and she could not meet his eyes now. Eventually she managed to say quietly, “Nobody, besides my parents, or Mr. Wezell, who is now gone, likes being with me. What’s wrong with you? ” she asked in humorous teasing.

“No thing,” he said as his eyes returned to the ground as well.

She could not move at this. Eventually she said, “It’s better if you say it as nothing, although they mean the same thing. Understand?” she asked.

Drew nodded his head. He said, “Nothing.”

She nodded her head. She said, “That was pretty good.”

He nodded his head. And then as he had done before, he seemed to strain against himself. His face contorted and he grimaced with pain. Her heart raced and she grew afraid for him, and for herself.

Then he pointed to himself and he pointed to her. He said very haltingly, “Nothing wrong with you.”

Her jaw dropped at this, and she had never been so stunned in her life.

Just then the school bell rang ending the period, and she went to get up.

“No,” said Drew.

“We have to go, we’ll get in trouble…”

“No go,” he said as he motioned dismissively at the school and the ringing bell. “Take a load off,” he said gruffly.

Reluctantly, she remained sitting.

“Nothing wrong with you,” he said again as he raised his eyes to look directly into her’s.

She felt chilled by this. Everything about her was wrong. She was the ugliest person alive.

“If you say so,” she said.

“No, you say so,” he said.

She said quickly, “I’m perfectly normal and very wonderful. Can we go now?” Then she stood up to go.

Drew caught her hand deftly and he held it as he quickly stood as well. Now his eyes looked almost pleading. “No,” he said. “You say so,” he added as he raised her hand that he held within his. He made a fist to show strength. He said, “You say so.”

She looked into his eyes and it was as if he was trying to communicate something to her she didn’t understand. He was confusing her, although he was not scaring her now.

“Nothing wrong with you,” he said.

She stood speechless. He was still looking in her eyes. He said, yet again, “Nothing wrong with you.” And still she could not speak.

The third bell rang and she knew she would be late for Humanities. She shot a furtive look toward the school.

Drew stamped his foot, almost like a spoiled child might do. He waved his hand dismissively at the school again, and then he growled in disgust at it. She was getting used to his growls and this actually made her laugh. Apparently Drew did not put much stock into things like Humanities.

And then again, he looked straight into her eyes. She looked into his eyes in return, and, for a moment, the world melted away. The last bell rang and she did not even hear it. The next batch of lunchroom students were already claiming their spaces outside, and she did not notice this as well.

The only thing she saw were Drew’s water blue eyes, and the only thing she felt was his warm hand holding hers. And the only thing she heard was him, when he said again, “You say so.”

She said in a whisper, “There is nothing wrong with me.”

Then Drew nodded his head, and he smiled.


Later, Valerie slouched into Mr. Kittles’s fifth period Humanities class. She was wicked late, and even the badass kids didn’t dare go in class so late after the last bell.

Mr. Kittles looked shocked as she did so. He thought - Val has never been late to class once, much more this late…


When class ended, she went hurriedly up to him. She blurted, “I’m sorry I was so late. I…”

But as Mr.Kittles erased his board, he said, “I’m sure you got tied up for a reason that wasn’t your fault.” Then he turned to her and he said, “Now get moving, or you’ll be late for Quantum Physics, or whatever suped-up class you take next.”

She giggled and said, “OK.” She hurried out of his room.

As she left, Mr. Kittles realized he had never heard Val laugh before. He thought it was pretty silly and juvenile sounding for a girl of six foot one and an IQ of 157.

And in thinking about this, he couldn’t help but smile.


She was not late for her sixth period German Two language class. She knew she could pretty much zone out during this class, as it was already being discussed by the powers that be that she could skip it to move to German Three. She thought that was in the bag. They had done the same for her with Spanish last year. When she went from Spanish One to Spanish Two, she spent only a few weeks there before she went to Spanish Three. The jump actually pushed her, and she enjoyed the challenge of actually having to study hard to get an A in it.

But she was paying attention to how Mrs. Dodds was pronouncing and accenting her German - that she couldn’t easily get from a book.

In doing so, she was reminded by how strange Drew sounded. Actually, he sounded somewhat German-like. He’s got to be from some Central or Eastern European country, she mused. But she could not nail down the area, not even a little. He didn’t sound Ukrainian, he didn’t sound Polish, he didn’t sound etc...she thought as she ticked all of those countries off in her mind.

Eventually she just shrugged her shoulders and gave up on this. There was only one way to get out of him where he was from, and that would require her giving him a good dose of the old third degree.

She pulled out her notebook to take notes. But soon she found herself doodling and scribbling nonsense and daydreaming away.

She wrote, “There is nothing wrong with me.” She smiled at this, and this made her feel great. So she wrote again, “There is nothing wrong with me.” Then she looked at the window, but it was darker outside and so she saw her reflection a little. She looked terrible, even for her. There were dark circles and bags under her eyes from all the day’s stress, as well as her usual ugliness to boot.

She frowned in sadness at this. She focused. She wrote, “There is something wrong with me, there are many things wrong with me. I’m hideous! But Drew doesn’t think so.”

And then she wrote, “Why?”

She just stared at this “Why?” for a while as her pen meandered a little around a spot on her paper’s margin.

But dark, serious thoughts that usually plagued her were not a problem for her right now. Soon she felt great again, and happy.

She was feeling silly. She wrote, “I had ice cream with a boy today!” She wrote, “It was almost like a date!” She wrote, “He paid!”

And then she remembered she still had the rest of his money in her pocket. She swore at herself about this.

He didn’t seem to know about how money worked, but he had to know something of its worth, as he made me keep it, like a present, she thought.

He must have gotten it from his parents, she processed. She continued thinking - I may get more answers if I can meet them.

Then she noticed her previous side scratch, that spot doodle in the margin. It looked a little like an eye. She etched it out to make it more eye-like. Then, she reached in her backpack and pulled out a blue Bic pen and she colored it in to make it blue as well.