Blackburn. Part 3

"Hey!" Jimmy yelled. "Big man!" The metal wall behind him rang. His words echoed from Clay Hill, and it was toward Clay Hill that Jasmine looked.

Todd held his kite in one hand and s.n.a.t.c.hed Doll-Baby from Jasmine with the other. He rubbed Doll-Baby's head against the tiger's mouth. "It's eating your baby!" he cried. "It's eating your baaaabeeee!"

Jasmine, screaming, lurched to her feet and reached for Doll-Baby. Todd danced away, mimicking her cries. Chrissie and Kyle continued to try to launch their batwing.

Jimmy walked to the hole in the catwalk over the south leg. He wouldn't hurry. If he hurried, he might make a mistake going down the ladder. Besides, no matter how quickly he got to the field, Todd would be sure to stop torturing Jasmine before he arrived. Then, if Jimmy tried anything, Todd could claim self-defense.

Todd thought he was smart.

But if Todd were smart, he wouldn't be messing with Jimmy Blackburn.

When Jimmy walked into the field, Todd was back to flying his tiger. Jimmy only glanced at him on theway to Jasmine, who was sitting beside the paper kite again. She was kissing Doll-Baby.

"You okay?" Jimmy asked.

Jasmine looked up. Her face was wet. "He tried to eat Doll-Baby."

"No, he tried to bug you. You need to act like you don't care."

Jasmine glared. "He tookDoll-Baby."

"You're getting too old for Doll-Baby anyway."

Jasmine stood and kicked Jimmy in the leg.

"Want to go home?" he asked.

"And never come back. I hate Todd Boyle."

"Waste of time." Jimmy looked down at the kite he had made. There was a hole where he had drawn the eagle, and the support sticks were broken.

"Todd Boyle stomped it," Jasmine said. "And he threw the string." She pointed at a white line that zigzagged off among the weeds.

"I can make another kite," Jimmy said. "I can make a hundred." He looked across at Todd, who was ignoring them. "Did he do anything else?"

"He said you wouldn't fight and he called you a p.i.s.sy."

" 'p.u.s.s.y.' Say it right or you'll get made fun of."

"Are you?" Jasmine asked.

Jimmy picked up his broken kite. "Am I what?"

"Are you going to fight Todd Boyle!"

"No." He started walking.

Jasmine toddled beside him, dragging Doll-Baby by one arm. "But he was mean to me."

"Lots of people are mean."

As they pa.s.sed Chrissie and Kyle, Kyle said, "Jimmy, our kite won't go up." He sounded as if he were about to cry.

Jimmy stopped to help. As the batwing ascended, Chrissie said, "We have a new baby at our house."

She spoke with defiant pride, as if the baby made up for not being able to fly a kite. "Her name is Tina, and she's only four weeks old."

"So?" Jasmine said. "Be nice," Jimmy said, helping Kyle pay out the string.

"So my mom says Tina is the prettiest baby in the state," Chrissie said.

"Me and Jimmy saw her at the store," Jasmine said. "She looks like a mashed turtle."

Chrissie shoved Jasmine. "You take that back!"

Jasmine swung Doll-Baby at Chrissie's head.

"Chrissie, look!" Kyle shouted. The batwing was almost as high as Todd's tiger.

Jimmy pulled Jasmine away from Chrissie, and Chrissie begged Kyle to let her hold the string. Things blew over fast when you were little. When you got older, they didn't. Jimmy guessed that someday, they wouldn't blow over at all.

After Jimmy and Jasmine crossed the Potwin road, Chrissie and Kyle cried out behind them. Jimmy looked back and saw that the tail of Todd's kite was smacking the batwing. Kyle was trying to pull the batwing away, but it only bobbled in place. Todd was going "Moo-hoo-HA-HA-HAAAA!" Chrissie and Kyle began yanking on their string together.

Jimmy knew what would happen. The batwing's string snapped, and the kite tumbled backward until it crashed on the road. A farm truck ran over it. Kyle began to cry, and Chrissie screamed at her brother.

"That's what happens," Todd shouted. "That's what happens when you get help from a p.u.s.s.y."

For the first time since Jimmy had come down from the tower, Todd looked at him. And grinned.

Jimmy turned to resume the two-mile walk home. Jasmine went into the ditch, her shoes squishing on the wet ground at the bottom, and ran ahead. She thunked Doll-Baby's head on fence posts as she went.

"Won't that hurt her?" Jimmy asked.

"She likes it," Jasmine said.

As they pa.s.sed the shattered batwing, Jimmy threw his own kite into the road with it. He kept the tail.

When Dad got home that evening, he came into the kitchen and said "Supper fixed?" to Mom. This was a sign of trouble. Jimmy tried to get out the back door.

"Where you think you're going?"

Too late. "Nowhere."

"Nowhere what?"

"Nowhere, sir." "You get your ch.o.r.es done? You smash those cans like I told you?"

"Yes, sir. I put them in grocery sacks."

Dad looked as if he were trying to think of something wrong with that.

"He was good today," Mom said. "He took care of Jasmine this afternoon so I could get some things done."

Jasmine popped into the kitchen. "He was too p.u.s.s.y to fight Todd Boyle."

Jimmy heard his heartbeat in his head. He tried to open the door, but Dad gripped his arm before he could turn the k.n.o.b.

"You say that word to your sister?" Dad shook Jimmy so hard that his shoulder popped.

Jimmy was mad. "I didn't do nothing."

Dad opened the door and dragged Jimmy across the yard into the garage. He propelled Jimmy facefirst against the pickup fender and told him to drop his pants.

Jimmy let his jeans and briefs fall around his ankles. Then he gripped the rim of the wheel well, palms up.

He would not cry.

He heard Dad take the piece of fibergla.s.s fishing rod from its nails. Itwhished through the air twice.

Jimmy shut his eyes and clamped his teeth. He would not cry.

The rod hissed a third time and bit into his b.u.t.tocks. He sucked air through his teeth.

"You gonna teach your sister nasty words?" Dad asked.

"No," Jimmy said.Eat s.h.i.t.

The rod hit the backs of his thighs. Jimmy yelped before he could stop himself. Dried mud inside the wheel well crumbled between his fingers.

"No what?" Dad asked.

"No sir," Jimmy answered. He heard his saliva drip onto the fender.Queer bait.

The rod hit his thighs again, with an even hotter sting. His nose began to run. Tears squeezed past his eyelids.

"You gonna backtalk me any more?" Dad asked.

"No sir."f.u.c.k Nixon.

"Carl." It was Mom. Jimmy knew better than to look around. "Jasmine says that James didn't say that word to her. She says it was another boy, being mean."

"I ain't whipping him for talking dirty," Dad said. "I'm whipping him for talking back." Mom's shoes crunched on the concrete as she left.

The rodwhished through the air twice.

Jimmy cried.

When Dad was through, he put the rod back on its nails and said, "Turn around."

Jimmy did as he was told. His legs and bottom burned as if matches touched them in a hundred places.

Dad put his thumbs in his pockets. "Was some punk bothering your sister?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you whip his a.s.s?"

"No, sir."

Dad looked at him for a long time. "Guess I raised a sissy," he said then. "Didn't I?"

Jimmy had to answer. "Yes, sir."

Dad went to the door. "Pull up your pants," he said, and went out.

Jimmy lay in bed reading aGreen Lantern comic book. He had already read it ten or fifteen times, but he wanted to keep its events sharp. The new issue was on the rack at the IGA, and he would buy it on Sat.u.r.day after Mom gave him his allowance.

He was sweating in his windowless room, and the sweat made his welts sting. In a few weeks, when it was hot enough. Mom would let him sleep on the couch in the living room.

After he finished the comic, the welts hurt worse. He wondered how Dad would like it ifhe were the one who was whipped every time he said something wrong. Jimmy looked at his own fishing rod in the corner. Maybe in a few years, he would see if he could give as good as he got.

He sat up and pulled the rod onto the bed. It was a six-foot length of thick black fibergla.s.s. Its Zebco 404 reel was loaded with a hundred yards of twenty-pound test monofilament. At Christmas, Dad had said he'd chosen the st.u.r.dy pole and strong line so that Jimmy could catch some really big ones. So far, though, they had only gone fishing once. Dad had gotten disgusted with Jimmy for having trouble threading a worm onto a hook. "If you ain't going to fish right," Dad had said, "you might as well not fish at all." Then he had thrown their stuff into the pickup and driven them home. Several times over the next week, Jimmy had dug up worms near the septic tank and practiced. But it had been for nothing.

The door opened. "That's it, James," Mom said. She pulled the string to turn off the light. "Time to go to sleep."

Jimmy put his fishing rod back in the corner. " 'Night, Mom." She stood framed in the doorway. "You aren't bleeding, are you, honey?"

"No." The cut on his thigh was small. His jeans had been stuck to it, but it had only bled a little when he'd pulled them down.

"All right," Mom said. "Just be sure to be respectful from now on, and you won't be spanked any more."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's a boy. Good night, dear."

" 'Night."

She closed the door, and Jimmy lay still, listening. As usual, Jasmine threw a fit at having to go to bed.

Also as usual, Mom soothed her until she settled down. Then Mom and Dad had a fight. Jimmy scrambled the words in his head.

When the fight was over, Dad watched the end of theThursday Night Movie and Mom took a bath.