A kid named Danny

Danny’s father kept a gun in the top drawer of his nightstand. After careful consideration, he might have decided that it wasn’t the best place to store a dangerous fire arm, but who really thinks about such things? Last year, someone broke into the house across the street, and a few months after that, Mr. Jackson, who lived three blocks down, reported an incident of theft as well. Danny and his father lived in a bad neighborhood. They didn’t have the money to move to a nicer area, so Danny’s father bought a 9mm Glock for protection. The gun had been deposited in the nightstand in his bedroom, and that was where it had stayed. His father never opened the drawer, and Danny wasn’t allowed in his bedroom.

Danny spent most of his time downstairs in his own room. The top drawer of his nightstand was filled with various drawings and notes he had scribbled down to remind him of something at a later date. There was also gum, a pair of headphones, a deck of cards, and a paperclip bent into the shape of a stick figure—things one might expect to find in the room of a sixteen year old. No one was allowed to look at the things he had written, but Danny knew that his father might open the drawer and glimpse its contents from time to time, as was natural, so he was more careful with the volatile information. Danny was not the type to take chances—he had gone through the trouble to rip up the drawing he had worked on during math class as Mr. Jones droned on about trigonometric identities yesterday into several hundred pieces, which he promptly flushed down the toilet. This morning, he carefully checked his notebook for compromising doodles, scratching them out with his pencil. He finished just in time to catch the bus.

When Danny got on the bus he sat down in the front seat. Most kids liked to sit in the back of the bus, but not him. He was tired today, so he hoped that he could enjoy some peace and quiet.

Jack and Dustin walked across the bus while it was moving. The bus took a right turn and Jack stumbled to keep his balance. The bus driver would have told them to stay seated until the vehicle came to a complete stop if he thought they would listen. Instead he just sighed.

“Hey Danny, “ said Jack with a sly grin; Dustin snickered. Danny looked at his shoes. Jack plopped himself down next to Danny and grabbed his backpack. Danny’s shoes were black with silver trim. Jack unzipped the backpack and pulled out Danny’s spiral, and Danny stared at the tip of his shoelace which was no longer covered by an aglet—he had had these shoes for a long time. As Jack flipped through the pages of the spiral as loudly and obnoxiously as possible, Danny wondered if he should wrap a piece of tape around the fray end of his shoelace to make it easier to work with. Lately he had just been very cautious when he tied his shoes, but perhaps finding a way to replace the aglet was the way to go.
“Ha, let me see,” said Dustin. Jack handed him the spiral. Danny continued to mull over whether or not he should tape up his shoelace. Deciding that he wasn’t getting much mileage from taking Danny’s spiral, Jack pulled out Danny’s water bottle and spilled it out on his trousers. Dustin called Danny an obscenity with a laugh and threw the spiral back at Danny, who now had a suspicious looking wet spot across his crotch. He would tape it up later today, he decided; it wasn’t sure to work perfectly, but it was worth trying.

***

Danny’s first period was the worst because he sat right next to Jack. Jack and Dustin were in his last period too, but then it was better because school was almost over. In the same way, the bus ride home was much more bearable. As long as Danny managed to get through first period, everything would be ok.

Jack smacked his gum loudly as Danny sat down. He smiled at him to let him know that they were very best friends.

Mr. Carlson scribbled notes on the white board about the new deal. Danny couldn’t really read Mr. Carlson’s handwriting, but he was pretty sure that the new deal had something to do with Teddy Roosevelt. His grades had not been very high lately, he had a lot on his plate, so he did his best to concentrate, but every time Mr. Carlson turned his back to add to the list of… policies? effects maybe? Jack STUCK his finger into his ear again. He loved giving Danny wet willies because Danny always quivered in discomfort. He thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world.

“May I go to the bathroom?” Danny asked. Mr. Carlson acquiesced. As Danny got up, Jack laughed as loudly as he could and pointed at Danny’s crouch,
“Looks like he already did!” he jeered. A few kids laughed, but most just pretended not to hear.

A lot of people felt sorry for Danny. Not sorry enough to sit with him during lunch. Or say hi to him in the hallways. But sorry enough to stare blankly at the wall as Jack bullied him. It was the kind of sorry accompanied with enough guilt and pity to make them feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make them do anything. Danny was familiar with that kind of sorry. He saw it on most kids’ faces. He even saw it on some of his teacher’s faces too sometimes, but they tried to hide it because they were more responsible. That was what responsibility was for most people, Danny guessed. It meant that they had to try harder not to notice things that should have provoked action. Most unsettling was the look of sorry that appeared on his father’s face when Danny came home with tattered clothes and dirt on his face. He couldn’t bear to see that sorry. That was why he ate lunch in the bathroom now—it was best to keep his father in the dark about most things; that way he didn’t have to feel guilty like everyone else. Danny always used to want to cry when he saw the guilt on his father’s face. The bullying he could handle, but not his father’s guilt. It was much easier to pretend that his father cared about him when he wasn’t making his sorry face.

For a while Danny had had respite from his father’s guilt. A few nights ago he had seen it again though. His familiar look of sorry was returning. It made Danny anxious.

Danny realized he had reached the bathroom. He often forgot himself, lost in thought, especially lately; people noticed that he looked even more withdrawn than usual.
He didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom, so he started walking back, as slowly as he could manage. His record was ten minutes. This time, however a teacher passed through the hallway, so he had to walk at a normal pace. He reached the door to his classroom, and took a deep breath. After he had taken a few moments to compose himself, he opened the door slowly. Jack grinned at him. Danny looked down at his shoes.

Sadly, Danny hadn’t realized that Jack was no longer chewing gum until he sat down. Jack opened his mouth in a gaping smile and slapped his hand against his desk.

***

Math class was the best. Mr. Jones never called on Danny, so he didn’t even have to pretend to pay attention. He just scribbled in his notebook and drew pictures. Today he didn’t draw anything though. He was working on a note. He didn’t want anybody to see it, so he curled his arm around his paper as he wrote.

***

Lunch was nice today. It was much like the calm before the storm. Usually he ran into Jack in the hallway on his way to the bathroom, but today he didn’t. He was able to eat his lunch in peace in his usual stall. “I hate myself and I want to die” was carved into the stall door. Also, “I’m going to kill Johnny Ladner,” and, “F*** the police!” Danny didn’t write any of those things. He wasn’t stupid.

***

English was the last class of the day. Dustin and Jack sat on either side of him. This time Danny noticed the puddle of water Jack had poured in his seat. He went to the front of the room and grabbed a handful of tissues. His pants were finally dry, and he had managed to scrape most of the gum off of them during study hall, so he wasn’t about to fall for another one of Jack’s pranks.

“Dang it,” whispered Dustin.
“But look, look,” snickered Jack as he pointed at the remnants of his gum. Dustin laughed in a loud, exaggerated way that was clearly fake.

As Ms. Prenner talked about the recurrence of the theme of alienation in Invisible Man, Dustin and Jack took turns whispering things in Danny’s ear. Ms. Prenner paused as Jack gave him another wet whilly, but then she continued talking. Dustin said something that made Jack burst out in laughter.
“Pay attention!” snapped Ms. Prenner. Dustin’s face turned red and he turned his attention towards the whiteboard. Jack just kept laughing.

Ms. Prenner continued her lecture, and the minute hand of the clock slowly made its way around.

Aside from the bloody spot on his leg from where Jack had driven his pencil into Danny as hard as he could, Danny escaped English class fairly unscathed. Now all he had to do was survive the bus ride home, and he would be done. For good.

“Hold on a second Danny,” Ms. Prenner called as he stepped through the doorway. Danny walked back over to her desk. “Is everything all right?” she asked when the class was empty except for the two of them, “I mean… is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
“Everything is fine,” he muttered, staring down at his shoes. She didn’t believe him, but after a few minutes of silence, she sent him on his way.
“You know you can tell me anything…” were her last words as Danny closed the door behind him. She considered calling his Father, but he never answered his voicemails. She sighed, and picked up the phone. One more message couldn’t hurt.

The look on Danny’s face as he walked out of the school was one filled with determination. His resolution would not be sicklied over by the pale cast of thought.

***

The next day Danny wasn’t on the bus.

***

Jack remembered how boring history class was as he stared at Danny’s empty seat and listened to Mr. Carlson talk about FDR’s legacy.

***

The kids in Danny’s math class wondered if he was sick.

***

Jack and Dustin had nothing to talk about during lunch.

***

English class seemed sort of empty that day. Ms. Prenner’s words seemed to echo off of the walls of the classroom like they would off of the inside of a cave of a remote mountain right before a rockslide.
“Optic White paint’s flawless white color represents white people’s attempts to assure that society is kept white. Despite the black colored fluids that go into the batches of paint, it still emerges white, meaning that white people are trying to ensure that white culture is errrrr, that black culture is suppressed… Similarly—”
Door thrust open, Ms. Prenner gasps. From this point on no turning back. Danny enters, gun in hand, it’s now time to make a stand, Dustin trembles Jack’s face white kids close their eyes can’t bear the sight lifts his gun to shoulder’s height classroom filled with horrid fright two loud bangs and now it’s done classroom floor is stained with blood Jack and Dustin both are stunned Danny puts a way his gun.









Ms. Prenner falls to the floor and dies in front of everybody.