How to Beat the Bully Without Really Trying Page 5

  Knowing what was coming, I tried to interrupt. “Uh . . .”

  “Relax, buddy, I know you’re eager to start.” And then to Toby and Josh, “What, you think Rodney here is afraid of this place?”

  Heck yes! Please shut up.

  But he didn’t. “Most of you saw what he did to the McThuggs. Rodney can handle those stone lions. He could easily kiss them, tickle them, or ride them home if he wanted to. . . .”

  I tried to interrupt again. “Um, I haven’t studied for that science test yet, so . . .”

  “It’s okay, pal,” Rishi continued. “I know you want to get to it.”

  No, idiot!

  He turned and looked right at Toby. “He can do anything you can do.” Then, looking at Josh, Rishi continued, “Or you, and a lot more!”

  “Anything?” Toby asked. I wanted to grab Rishi and throttle him, but before I could . . .

  “Yeah, anything,” he said, poking his finger into Toby’s chest.

  Toby looked down at the finger for a moment and then looked up at me. With sparkling eyes that reflected the large moon, he said, “I bet he won’t go in the house.”

  This brought on a round of gasps. The kids gradually stopped talking and all looked at me, waiting for a response. I did the only thing I could do—scramble for an excuse.

  “Hey, that sounds like it would be something.” I took a deep breath and continued, “There’s nothing I’d rather do, but you see, there’s a problem. The house is going to be locked. I mean . . .”

  My logical, convincing point was interrupted. Not by Toby, Josh, or Rishi. Not by any other kid standing there, but by the front door of Old Man Johnson’s house. For the first time that night, it creaked slightly open in the breeze. Two kids immediately bolted off down the street. I would have joined them, but Rishi’s hand was still gripping my shoulder, now much tighter, and I couldn’t move.

  Jaws dropped as all of us stood staring at the door. It slowly blew closed again. Once he got his voice back, Toby said, “There. That solves that problem.”

  For the first time in weeks, Josh looked directly at me. Everything had stopped. I could feel his eyes piercing me, and I knew that all the gains I had made since the first day of school would be lost that night if I didn’t go into the house. And shockingly, even though my heart and brain both screamed no, my foot took a step forward. Then another. I reached for the gate.

  The stone lions seemed to be looking at me, glaring. I shuddered, exhaled and continued very slowly up the broken steps. It was much darker up here by the house. “Go for it, Rodney!” I heard Rishi shout.

  There had to be some way out of this. Just jump in for a second, I told myself. Wait. What was I thinking? Not a chance. Okay, Plan B. Turn and run and never return to Garrettsville. I had made it to the porch and was shaking uncontrollably when the front door suddenly creaked open.

  “Pssst. Hey kid.”

  I almost wet my pants. Someone was right there. I could see a white hand holding the doorknob.

  “Relax. Come here.”

  I focused on the sound and could see in the shadows what looked like an old man in pajamas and a robe. His face lit up and I noticed he was smoking a pipe.

  “That’s right, I’m not going to eat you. I’ve been listening to your rather amusing discussion, and if you do want to come in, I promise not to chop your head off.” That sent a shudder down my spine. “Oh, sorry, just some Halloween humor.” He laughed. His laugh wasn’t menacing, and he seemed old and not very threatening. I weighed my options. Realizing I’d rather face this guy than a year of Josh’s poundings, I stepped in.

  There was a faint light coming from the living room and a fire in the fireplace. It seemed almost cozy, not the bloodstained torture chamber I expected. “Well, my dear boy, now that you’re here, have a seat.” He motioned to one of two big armchairs near the fire.

  “Uh, thank you,” I said.

  “You’re certainly very welcome. But I must say you are the first to actually enter my family home, and I’m not really prepared for it.” He took a puff on his pipe and the smoke smelled sweet and smooth. “Care to join me in a drink? Oh wait, I guess you’re more of a milk drinker at your age. I have some club soda. That’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.” He brought a tray from the kitchen and poured the drinks. I tried to control my breathing. I had calmed down some, but the scene was still creepy. “I see you’re not going to be saying much, so I’ll start. I’m Old Man Johnson. At least I am this year. And you are?”

  “Rodney, sir.”

  “Well, Rodney, sadly I didn’t murder anyone and I’m not possessed by the devil.”

  “So why does everyone think . . .”

  “That this place is haunted? Well, laddy, they do so because my brother wants them to. He lives here and loves a good fright. In actuality, I’m a Broadway actor who grew up in this house but moved away years ago. My brother is traveling and asked if I would take over the honors this Halloween. I’m between shows and jumped at the chance.” He turned slightly and glanced around the room. “Not exactly the Hamptons, but it’s home. And now you have discovered my secret. I never expected anyone would actually try to enter the house. You must be very brave.”

  “Not really,” I admitted. As my eyes became adjusted to the light, I jumped after noticing a human skull sitting on the coffee table. I cleared my throat. “Actually, I’m a big chicken.” I was shocked I had said it out loud, but it felt good to talk about it.

  “How interesting. So how did a coward find the nerve to enter the front door?”

  “Well, I had to, to keep my tough guy reputation.”

  “And how did you get that?” Before I knew it, I was telling him all the stuff that had happened to me. He seemed interested and asked, “Rodney, why is this reputation so important to you? Not every kid has one, and what you go through to keep yours seems more trouble than it’s . . .”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. This year’s been a dream. In my last school, back in New York there was this kid Rocco . . .”

  “New York? Did you say New York? Surely you saw me play Macbeth at the Orpheum Theater?”

  “Uh, no. But anyway, last year this bully, Rocco, would beat me up almost every day. Whenever I was on line, he would cut in front of me. I lived each day scared of his fists and atomic wedgies. I don’t want to ever go back to that. And just as important, there’s this girl in my class, Jessica, who I want to impress.”

  “I see. Well, Rodney, we have an interesting situation. We both have a secret, and we both want it kept. Besides, for you, the only person in this town who knows I’m here is my brother. If I help you with your secret, will you keep mine?”

  “Absolutely,” I answered.

  “Splendid! I assume that motley crew of boys outside is with you?”

  “Some are; some I wish weren’t.”

  “Oh, are Josh and Toby out there?” he asked. He knew them from my story.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “And is your young lassie out there?”

  I thought he was talking about a dog until I realized he meant Jessica. I shook my head no.

  “Well then, she’ll miss all the fun. You see, you’ve already been in here for over ten minutes, so by now everyone out there must think you’re dead, or worse!” I wasn’t sure what was worse than death but I let him continue. “Since you know of my acting ability, you’ll be happy to hear I’ve decided to stage a final scene to really put them over the top. I plan to screech like when I played Gloucester in King Lear. The critics loved my take on that role.”

  He went over to the window. “Come. Watch your friends.” I peeked out through the shutter and the next thing I knew, Old Man Johnson was shouting, “No! Nooooooooo, Rodney!!! I’m sorry I crossed you! AAArrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!” Sure enough they all bolted in every direction.

  My new friend laughed. “That ought to help you a bit. I’ll let out one final scream once you’re on the porch, just to silence the cynics in the c
rowd who might believe you gave a one-man performance in here.” He sure talked funny, but I liked him a lot. We shook hands and he said, “Thank you, my boy, for a most pleasant Halloween.” Then he noticed me staring at the skull. “You like Philip?”

  “Uhh . . .”

  “Don’t get jumpy. I just call him that. I use him to practice Hamlet, but he comes in handy on Halloween, too. Why don’t you take him as a little trick-or-treat present?”

  “All right, thanks, I guess.” I picked up Philip, tucked him in my jacket, waved good-bye to Mr. Johnson, and stepped out onto the porch. True to his word, he let out one final moan from inside the house that could be heard a mile away.

  When I reached the street I didn’t see anyone at first, but then I noticed some boys hiding in the bushes. When they saw me they started to emerge like ants out of holes. They gathered around, shocked to see me alive. After a bit, their fear and shock wore off and more of the original crowd began to join us. They cheered and everyone kept asking me questions. I just said it was no big deal and started walking home.

  “Come on, Rodney! What the heck happened in there?” Rishi asked.

  “Go in there yourself if you want to find out,” I replied. I knew that would silence him. I was still a little annoyed at how he had egged on Josh and Toby, who now stood gaping at me a few feet away. I smiled at them. “Nice idea, Toby, daring me to go inside the house. Oh, I got you guys a souvenir.” With that I took out Philip and tossed it to them.

  Josh caught it, unaware of what it was, but when he saw a smiling human skull looking up at him, he wailed, “Whoooooooahhhhh!” just as Rishi took his picture.

  The next day was yet another one of stories and tales. Some of the stories had me wrestling the ghost of Old Man Johnson. Others pinned me against escaped prisoners hiding out in the house. In all the tales I was heroic, and I never corrected anyone.

  At one point before lunch Jessica came up to me. “You’re full of surprises, Rodney Rathbone,” she smiled. “I’m not sure what to make of you.” My face blushed and before I could figure out an answer she walked off to join Kayla.

  The only person not celebrating that day was a quiet, angry Toby sitting in the row next to me. I ignored him, but I should have given him more thought. I was soon to learn that each of my victories—and his embarrassing defeats—only made him more determined to see me fail.

  Chapter 9

  THE INVINCIBLE BOY

  The weeks following Halloween were free and easy, with the possible exception of the day Toby tried to get me kicked out of school. Honestly, it was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen . . . even for Toby.

  After I emerged from Old Man Johnson’s house unharmed, my reputation had only grown. Walking down the halls in school had actually started to tire me out. Not one kid passed without a “Hey Rodney,” or “Hi, Rodney” or “How’s it going, Rodney?” At night my hand hurt from high-fiving everyone. Sometimes it got so crazy at school that Rishi had to step in.

  “Mr. Rathbone can’t play ball with you today at recess because he already promised Frank and James a game of hoops. I’ll check his schedule and get back to you. Maybe next week.” He said he was my agent.

  It seemed the more popular I got, the more I noticed Toby whispering in Josh’s ear. It didn’t take a genius to know they were plotting something. After all, their whole world had been turned upside down. If they tried to pick on a kid this year, Dave or Slim would say, “I wouldn’t do that if I was you” and motion in my direction. I just played it cool and let my reputation do the talking.

  The afternoon before we left for the long Thanksgiving weekend is when Toby made his move. I was coming back from the boys’ room in the middle of class when I turned the corner and saw him and Josh standing in front of me, Josh making a fist and rubbing it with his left hand. The hall was empty. It all happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to panic. I just remember my brain saying, This is it. Josh pulled back his right arm as far as he could and sent it flying forward. I braced and heard the punch connect—pow!—right into Toby’s face.

  What happened next shocked me even more. Toby screamed, “Rodney punched me!!! Help! My nose is bleeding! Somebody, Rodney punched me and called me names!” Trying to get away before a teacher came out of class, Josh ran smack into Mr. Feebletop, who had turned the corner in time to see the whole show.

  “Nice try, you half-wits,” he muttered to Josh and Toby. “Let’s take a little walk to my office.” Then he turned to me. “Only eighty-four more days till spring training!” I just nodded.

  As they disappeared down the hall, I heard Toby tell Josh, “Stop smiling, you jerk. That really hurt.”

  Of course, everyone within earshot of Toby’s shouts thought I had finally decked him for good. That day, two hundred kids must have come up to me and said, “He had it coming. You rule!”

  I would just shrug each time, look bored, and mumble, “I guess.”

  On the bus ride home, Josh and Toby glared out the window as Rishi tortured them. “First we got you, Josh, with one punch to the nose. Then we decided it was your turn, Toby. . . .” I wasn’t sure who this “we” was, but Rishi seemed happy so I kept quiet. Every once in a while Toby would spin around, start to say something, change his mind, and give me a long hard stare. He knew and I knew that he would never tell anyone what really had happened in the hallway—and it was sure driving him nuts.

  Sitting there, full, after a great Thanksgiving dinner, watching football with my dad, I remember thinking that I was perhaps invincible. And for the next month it felt that way. Despite Mrs. Lutzkraut doing her best Ebenezer Scrooge imitation, December slid happily along. In fact, I had to eat lunch with her only twice. Josh and Toby were keeping their distance, and the best part was Jessica. Lately she had started talking to me more and more. Even Kayla had begun to act halfway nice, though one day before Christmas vacation I found out why.

  “You know,” Jessica whispered to me on the way back from art class, “Kayla likes Dave.” I almost fainted . . . not from the news but the smell of Jessica’s long blond hair so close to my face. It smelled like strawberries and vanilla.

  “Are you listening to me?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah,” I answered, fumbling with some books in my hand. “How do you know Kayla likes him?”

  “Duh, Rathbone. She told me.”

  It was the first time I liked listening to my last name. It sounded great coming from her lips. Stay focused! “Well, Jessica, I don’t know if he likes her.”

  “But maybe you could do something or say something to him over the break. You seem to be able to do anything.” Then she reached out, held my wrist gently in her hand, and looked into my eyes. “Couldn’t you do it as a special favor for me?”

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  “Rodney?”

  Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump . . .

  “Are you okay, Rodney?”

  “Jessica, I was wondering if sometime you might . . .”

  “Am I interrupting?” Rishi interrupted. I felt Jessica’s hand let go, and she ran off to catch up with her friends. For once, though, I was kind of glad Rishi had a big mouth. I was still afraid that if I asked Jessica out, she might say no. I needed a few more weeks to get up my nerve.

  Right before heading to bed that night, content that everything was going better than I could possibly dream, I glanced out the window and noticed that it had started to snow. “Hey, check it out!” I yelled to my parents.

  “Ooooohhh it’s snowing,” my mom exclaimed. “The weatherman didn’t say anything about . . .”

  She was interrupted by my dad, who sang in her ear, “‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones . . .’”

  “You are no Bing Crosby,” she giggled back, grabbing him. I watched the two of them goofing around. The fire crackled. My sister was in bed. Christmas was only two days away. Everything was perfect. I returned to looking outside and smiled at the falling snow. It wasn’t long before I’d be cu
rsing every flake.

  Chapter 10

  I MEET THE BEAST

  Early Christmas morning my sister woke me up and we tore down the steps to the living room where my parents waited, surrounded by presents. My sister squealed with delight as she opened little packages containing Polly Pockets or Barbies, but I looked intently for the one gift I wanted. I shredded green and red paper, made mincemeat of bows, and dumped the clothes, books, and other things to the side. Once I finished opening everything, I sat back, quiet, trying to hide my disappointment.

  “Rodney, you didn’t look under the chair,” my dad said. I zoomed around, and there it was, badly wrapped, indicating my father had done it—a box that was just the right size.

  I started ripping it open and he jumped up to join me. My mom said, “Donald, is that what I think it is? How much was it?” My dad just laughed and grabbed me and we tore into the den to set up the most advanced video-game system around.

  While it might have been my present, I think my dad had bought it for himself. The two of us played video games for the next few days as the snow fell softly outside. Then one morning my mom walked in and pulled the plug on us right in the middle of a tennis match. We stood looking at her in shock.

  “Donald, do you really want to spend your few days off this Christmas playing video games? Don’t you think you should finish cleaning out the basement?” My mom’s questions weren’t questions; they were orders. “And you,” she said, turning to me now, “don’t you want to go outside and play in the snow?”

  Don’t you want to leave me alone? I almost blurted out, but this was my mom and even I knew better.

  She continued, “I have to clean the house. We’re having the Windbaggers over for dinner.”

  “Aaaaaggghhhhhh!” My dad and I whined simultaneously.

  “Now, now,” she continued. “We’re new to this town, Donald. Fred and Ethel were good enough to have you and me over last month.” My dad let out a sigh. I hadn’t met them yet, but my dad groaned every time he heard their name.