Chapter 9
June had finally arrived, and the smell of summer was in the air. So too, was the anticipation of two and half months away from school. While Henry was forced to work a part-time job, Samantha was allowed to do as she chose. Her mother knew it would soon be time to choose a college, and with the difficulty of higher education ahead of her, she thought that Samantha should have one last summer vacation, a chance to be a kid before taking on the responsibilities of a college student. As envious as Henry was, he would also have time to simply do nothing. His summer job consumed only twenty hours a week, leaving him ample opportunity to find his own quiet place. There was, however, a surprise of sorts waiting for both of them.
It was an especially hot day when Henry walked into the bookstore. Only a few doors down from his job at the pizzeria, he had arrived early, and thought he'd spend some time perusing the UFO section. He and Samantha had agreed to meet there and within only minutes of his arrival, she walked through the door. Knowing where to find him, she walked toward the back of the store finding him deeply engrossed in a book by Edgar Cayce.
“I thought it was just UFO's,” she whispered.
Henry leapt from his skin as he dropped the book on the floor.
“Shit!” he whispered.
Although it was not a library, the store clerk wanted things quiet to avoid disruptions.
“You scared the hell out of me!”
“Sorry,” Samantha replied. “I couldn't help it.”
They exchanged some friendly conversation regarding the start of summer vacation when they were quietly interrupted.
“Hey guys,”
It was Eric. His demeanor was noticeably different. He had always been known as the school bully, but something had changed and Henry and Samantha were more than a bit curious.
“Henry, you got a minute?” he asked.
Henry was immediately suspicious, believing that he would soon be on the receiving end of a cruel joke. But Eric was alone, and if there was one thing any bully required, it was an audience. This time, there was none, and Eric seemed lost. Seeing Eric's expression, Samantha attempted to excuse herself. No one simply changes overnight, and although the conversation had not yet begun, it was the tension that pushed her away.
“Oh no,” Eric began. “You don't have to do that.”
In spite of Samantha's continued anxiety, she remained, mostly out of curiosity.
“Uh...okay,” she replied.
Eric, again, directed his attention back to Henry.
“Um...look,” he continued. “I know I've always been kind of an asshole, but a few weeks ago I was a bigger asshole than usual.”
Henry remembered the event very clearly as Eric talked trash to him about Samantha. He recalled that Eric's behavior warranted a punch in the face, resulting in his immediate withdrawal from the confrontation.
“I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry.”
He waited for a response as Henry and Samantha stood in shocked disbelief. Bullies are not known for apologizing about anything and always seem to think they are entitled to harass other, usually the small and weak. Henry quickly concluded that Eric's apology was part of a manipulation, a ruse designed to throw him off his guard. Nonetheless, he accepted his apology, believing that, at some point, Eric would betray his own words. Samantha was not so certain. She was quite good at reading behavior, and believed that Eric's offer was sincere. Her question was why.
“Um...Okay,” Henry replied. “Don't worry about it.”
Eric breathed a sigh of relief, but he was certain that Henry likely harbored enough resentment that his words might go unheard. After all, he'd spent most of his young life engaging others in a verbal beat-down, and sometimes things got physical.
“Thanks,” Eric said. “By the way, you've got one hell of a swing.”
The discomfort of the moment was palpable and seemed to fill the entire store.
“Thanks...I guess,” Henry replied.
“So,” Eric continued. “Maybe we could hang out sometime.”
Henry looked at Samantha as if she might have something to say that might break the tension and end the conversation.
“Uh, yeah...sure,” she said. “We could all meet here and find a place to hang out.”
Eric smiled and nodded.
“That sounds great,” he said. “So...see you guys later, okay?”
He turned and made his way to the door but looked back momentarily and waved. Seconds later, he was gone. Henry and Samantha were left more than a bit bewildered and looked at each other as though the devil himself had just passed between them.
“What the fuck just happened?” Henry asked.
Samantha was at a loss for an answer.
“I have no idea,” she began. “I mean, you called him a cocksucker and nearly knocked him on his ass. How hard did you hit him anyway?”
“Not 'that' hard,” Henry answered.
“So, what the hell's going on?” Samantha asked. “Do you think it's a trick?”
They were both confused, knowing that people do not simply change overnight, unless they are faced with a crisis. Now, they had become highly curious as to what may have led to Eric's sudden humility.
“I have an idea,” Samantha said. “Let's go to my house.”
Without making a purchase, they left the bookstore and went to Samantha's house where her mother was waiting. Once through the front door, they were stopped by her mother who began asking about Eric.
“Do you know this kid?”
The immediacy of her question raised an obvious degree of concern and anxiety in both teens.
“Uh, yeah,” Samantha replied. “From school, why?”
Her mother paused, trying to find the right words but when none were forthcoming, she fell back on a standard parental warning.
“I just don't want you near him, okay?”
Like any young person, Samantha was as curious as she was confused.
“Why?” she asked. “He's not 'that' bad.”
As with all parents, her mother did not like to repeat herself and her impatience was beginning to flare.
“Sam,” she began. “Please. I don't want you spending any time with him, alright?”
When her mother told her not to do something there was usually a good reason and most of the time an explanation. Samantha quickly concluded that something serious was going on and she had, just as quickly, become consumed with finding out what it was.
Acknowledging her mother's request, Samantha led Henry upstairs to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed as Henry took the chair in front of her desk.
“What was 'that' all about?” Henry asked.
“I have no idea,” Samantha answered. “But I'm going to find out.”
Henry nodded slightly and suggested there might be something in the newspaper. If Eric was in trouble, it might warrant a small article.
“Let me go get the paper,” she said. “I'll be right back.”
Leaving the room, she went back downstairs to get the day's copy of the Portland Press Herald. When she was unable to locate it, she asked her mother if it had been thrown out. Usually, her mother kept the paper for, at least, a night. It was certainly not as sizable as The Boston Globe, but she always read it from front to back.
“Oh, sorry Sam,” she began. “I guess I threw it out already.”
As young as Samantha was, she knew nothing about human nature, but she knew a lie when she heard it. The part she found troubling was that it was coming from her mother whom, she believed, was trying to protect her from something.
“Oh, okay,” she replied.
She turned and proceeded back to her room, harboring an even greater degree of suspicion. Walking in, she asked Henry to sit on the bed while she turned on her laptop.
“So what did your mom say?” Henry asked.
Samantha described the conversation and expressing her suspicions, went to the website for the Portland Press Herald.
“What's going on?” he asked.
Sensing the tension of her mounting suspicions, Henry's curiosity peaked as he stepped up behind her, looking over her shoulder as she explored the website. Clicking on the link for the local section, an article appeared: 'Norway Boy Arrested'. Next to the article was a police photograph of Eric. His hair was disheveled, and he appeared to have been crying.
“What does it say?” Henry asked.
“Wait a second,” Samantha interrupted.
As she read through the article, her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed. “This can't be right!”
The article outlined charges that had filed against Eric, stemming from an assault on a twelve-year-old boy. According to witnesses, Eric had been harassing the boy when he shoved him back from the sidewalk. Apparently, the boy, whose name was being withheld, tripped and fell backwards off the curb and into the street. But before landing on the asphalt, an approaching car struck the side of his head with the right corner bumper. The impact left his skull with long fractures and a golf ball sized area of bone crushed against his brain. He had flown to Maine Medical Center, where he was admitted to intensive care. His condition was listed as critical, and he was not expected to survive. If the boy died, Eric would be charged with murder and when the time came, his attorney would plead down to a lesser charge. But he was guaranteed to spend a great deal of time behind bars. Sometimes, the most important lessons of life can be quite painful and occasionally, there is no going back.
Having finished reading the article, both teens found themselves in speechless shock. They knew Eric had a reputation as a bully but neither believed that the young boys injuries were the result of intent. To the sheltered psyche of youth, things like this simply don't happen in a town like Norway.
“Shit,” Henry whispered. “This is messed up.”
“Yeah,” Samantha replied. “What the hell was he thinking?”
A moment of quiet passed as they continued to absorb the shocking news.
“Well,” Henry said. “Why don't you ask him?”
Samantha turned towards him with the sudden realization that she could, in fact, inquire to Eric about what had happened. If for no other reason than curiosity. Henry leaned forward and looked at the digital clock on the display.
“Shit,” he said. “It's starting to get late. My mom's gonna fuckin' kill me.”
With Samantha still staring at the article, Henry walked to the doorway. Stopping momentarily, he turned back and gave Samantha a bit of necessary advice.
“Hey, Sam,” he began. “I know things don't happen a lot around here, but don't get too involved. There's really nothing anyone can do about it, okay?”
Samantha was unable to find the words for a clear response, but did manage to nod a reply. Her mind was not so much on Eric as it was with the boy, now lying in a hospital bed and likely near death. She thought about what his family was going through, the anticipation of his expected demise, the grief, anger, and resentment. There is nothing surprising about the passing of an elderly person. They have lived their lives and their time has come. But the death of a child can never be understood, and under any circumstances, it is never fair. The next day, Eric was picked up at his house by the Sheriff. The young boy he had pushed into the street died during the night, and Eric was being held responsible. Charged with murder, his attorney knew the state would never be able to prove its case. However, they did have the right to hold him until trial. Eventually, he would be sentenced to ten years for involuntary manslaughter. For Eric, life was over, and the lesson of humility would be tainted with the painful isolation of imprisonment.