Chapter 4: BUSTICATED
All morning John avoided everyone. He completed his chores before anyone came down for breakfast, then by himself, went down to the little creek, lazily catching fish.
He stared at a spot beside him. He wished Ava was sitting there. He could imagine her smiling and laughing and jumping in the water with him, but last night's events shook him to the core.
"John! John? Oh! There you are." Willa came trudging down the shaft way of an old stream path holding her skirt in her hand. "Leave me alone, Willa." She came up behind him and sat down. "John, I just want to talk."
"Well I don't. So go away." She leaned forward and slapped him on the back of his head. "WHY?"
"You're not the only one who despises Henry and his hooligan brother. I just never had the guts to butt heads with him like you and him do. I'm proud of you." John turned and faced her. "What did you say?"
"You heard me. Once, he insulted me when I told him I wanted to be like Amelia Earhart. He flat out told me, 'That woman ain't nothing but a joke. She's just a plain fool thinking that she can fly all over the place like a popped balloon' and 'She should just leave the flying to the men 'cause you'll never be like her.' Why, I just wanted to punch him right in his face, give him what's coming to him, you know." John laughed some. "You should have."
"Yeah, well, after seeing what happens when you do butt heads with him, I'm not so sure I want to." John frowned and turned around and faced the water. "Oh, I'm sorry. So... how are you taking things?" John spit into the water. "I see. I know you want to be alone. But I gotta tell you, everyone forgot everything that happened. Henry is just prancing around like the fool he is. I just want to tell you that whenever you want to come back, it'll be a new day." John huffed and threw the fishing line back at the dead water. "I gotta go." As Willa got up and walked back up the stream path, John glanced at his sister. Yeah, right. He didn't know if he could muster up any of the scattered courage around him to even show his face to anyone ever again. It would start a curse he had no intentions of speaking into existence. This frustrated him.
John scrambled to his feet and screamed to the clouds. He picked up a rock and threw it at the resting creek. It didn't serve him justice. He kept throwing rocks from the same spot that soon he was throwing balls of dirt and it went every where. He picked his fishing pole up and broke it over his knee without a moment's hesitation. His father gave it to him for his fifth birthday. Now, it was no more than two broken pieces of wood. He plopped back down onto the ground and cried, angrily wiping away the tears he did not want.
Later that night, John found his way into his bedroom without being caught. He didn't eat dinner. He didn't bathe. In his shared bedroom, he found a note on his pillow marked with his name on it. Inside the note, it read:
[John, I hope you're coping well. I understand you need some space. Your new chore for tomorrow is to milk the cows. I love you.
Mama]
He smiled.
Over the next couple of days, John continued to avoid everyone. He completed his chores, then ran off to elsewhere where no one would find him.
Wilma and Ruth-Ann were in the family room knitting under the afternoon's cooling breeze and drinking bitter coffee. "Wilma, you need to call it quits for this boy. He is causing our guest to doubt our authority over the children." Wilma stared at her sister in dismay. "Oh, please Rutherford. We all know what he said was inappropriate, but for crying out loud, the boy pissed himself then fainted in the middle of the floor. If I were him, I'd be doing the same thing right now, hiding from my shame."
"I'm just saying. I think it's about time for him to emerge from this shadow of--of guilt and face reality as it is." Ruth-Ann didn't get two stitches in before she blurted an idea out into the open air. "I know! You need to make him go with Henry so that they can work things out. They can scream and holler and cuss all they want." Wilma at first laughed sarcastically, but her amusement began to dissipate as she thought on it more. "That's not a bad idea. I'll go find them."
Once she finished knitting the bottom half of the scarf she made, Wilma got up and went towards the front door. She opened it up and stood on the porch looking all over the yard, seeing the children playing tag and Darla and Jo-ann in the flower garden. She sucked in a large breath of fresh Fall air, the crisp coolness burning the back of her warm tonsils, and yelled, "JOHN!" Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Wilma as if she called upon the devil himself. She stepped down off of the porch, walked around the house and went down hill into the meadow. She knew he wasn't at the creek because yesterday, she went there and only found his broken fishing pole. So he wouldn't be fishing without a pole to fish with.
Wilma ventured further and further into the gnat infested grass. She went so far to the point where the grass over towered her head. She could almost remember her first days on the farm after she married Perry. The two having a picnic where the grass was short, then Wilma running out into the field of tall grass, while Perry chased behind her. She tripped and fell, having Perry topple on top of her; then that's when it happened. Perry stared at her as the moonlight lit her round face. He took in every inch of her beauty. It wasn't a surprise to her when he kissed her passionately. It was unreal and serene at the same time. Lips still locked, he had flipped her over, his fingers trailing down her back, and he didn't hesitate to go further. She'd let go of his lips and stare at him. "Perry... I don't think I'm ready." At that moment he would just smile. "Wilma, sweetheart. We're married. Our minds, bodies, and souls are one now. You have nothing to worry about." And he had been right for fourteen and a half years coming.
John heard someone yell from where he was in the forest. He ventured back through the brush and all the way towards the meadow. He stopped when he heard his name. It was his mother. John climbed the fence. Once he got clear across, he made a run for it. Soon he collided with Wilma and both went down with a shout.
John stood up rubbing his head. Wilma rolled off of her stomach and sat straight up, still dizzy from their collision. "Jesus, John. You pack a punch in that head of yours," she finally said. "Sorry Mama." John knelt down next to her and embraced Wilma wholly. "It's nice to see you, too, son."
Wilma suggested that they enter the house through the back door. They sneaked all the way back into Perry's study. When they got inside, Wilma sat John in the desk chair. She spun him around to face her and the window. "It's time now. What is going on with you and Henry?" John had hoped by being in the office with his mother that he could finally relax and not feel like an outsider anymore, but the question hit him harder than a truck carrying hogs on its tail bed. He knew if he told her the truth, Henry would give him hell on earth. He scattered everywhere, thinking of lies that would work and lies that wouldn't. He thought back to his lonely day at the pond. He thought about his fishing pole. "Well, you see, I thought he broke my fishing pole on purpose. So I got mad and said those words to him. I found out that it was an accident and even tried to apologize to him, but he won't talk to me." He said it as if it were the story it was. Wilma just nodded her head and smiled in response. "I'm going to call that boy in. You and him are going to go somewhere and talk your mess out. Do you hear me?" John didn't hear her. At least not all the way. His mind was fried and his heart stopped. She wanted him to do what? With who? "Did you hear me?" He blinked a couple of times, but otherwise stayed frozen.
She walked a few doors up the hallway to where Henry and Gilbert were staying. She knocked on the wooden door twice. "Come in," a voice responded. Wilma twisted the brass knob and peeked her head in. Henry sat on the floor playing Jacks with James. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but could I steal you for a moment, Henry?" He dropped the little bouncy ball and stood up. Wilma wrapped her arms around his shoulder and guided him into the hallway. "Pick this up,"she instructed James as she left the room.`
Henry frowned when he saw John sitting in the chair, completely unfrozen and fidgeting like an insane person. "John?" John looked up at Wilma then over to Henry and scowled. Wilma pushed Henry closer to John and then positioned herself between them. "Henry, Ms. Rittlestein and I have suggested that you find somewhere to go with John to talk about each of your disputes among one another; preferably about his broken fishing pole."
"His what?" Henry turned and faced her. "John told me that you accidentally broke his fishing pole and that he said those nasty things to you out of anger. Is that not true?" Henry slowly crooned his head back at John. "Yes ma'am, that is true. I will do it."
Henry looked more annoyed than ever as Wilma escorted them to the front yard. She stopped once she reached the rose garden. "Go as far as you need to. Just be back in time for dinner, okay?" Both of them nodded and watched as she re-entered the house. John faced Henry again. "Okay, let's just stay out here for another thirty minutes, then we'll--" He whistled really loud, but only a whistle one other Finch knew. A few moments later Gilbert appeared from behind the house and marched right up to them. "Where we going?" He didn't receive an answer, but instead was hoisted up by his collar. "If you ever make me wait like that again, I'll have your head, got it?" Gilbert nodded. He followed Henry and John as they walked down the gravel driveway, all the while, smoothing his shirt back down.
The kindergarten train didn't stop until they were further down the road and stood in front of John's secret passageway to the wilderness and beyond. Henry lifted up the slab of wood that turned the design of the fence from an "x" to a rectangle. He let John climb through, then locked eyes with Gilbert, both sharing the same intent to harm John. Henry let the board fall back into place then hopped the fence.
There was nothing but silence. Cold and nature-filled silence. And it agitated John; he was anxious about their meeting.
He looked back and when he didn't see Henry or Gilbert, he ran. He wanted to get as far away as possible. Most of it dealt with the fact that a bundle of nerves were sitting in the pit of his stomach, another dealt with instinct. As he entered into the depth of the forest, John was mesmerized by the beauty of the natural brush. He stood in place and looked up at the green and orange canopy, taking in two breaths of air; he closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming interaction.
Leaves started winding towards the trees in front of John. Birds went silent and branches started swaying in the opposite direction. John opened his eyes and waited for a breeze to come and just carry him away, but it never happened. Instead, sparks started erupting in a single space, then a vacuum of air formed and sucked up every leaf, branch, and critter crawling. Hazy, blue smoke started winding into a vortex. Then, lightning from the clear sky struck the vortex and created a portal of blackness. John couldn't believe his eyes. As it expanded, a leg, then an arm, then a torso formed its way through the spiral. Soon it was a man. He landed on his knees grunting as if his air supply had been restricted from him. "John... lookout. They're out--to get you. Don't let Henry throw that..." As quick as he came he was gone. Everything zipped back into place with only movements from the leaves that didn't get sucked in.
John, shaking and curious, went towards the blackened trees inspecting them and trying to reason what exactly had happened. Only then did he fall to his knees followed by a sharp pain behind his head. "Hey, you jackass! What do you think you're doing running away from me," said Henry as he tossed another rock in his hand. John attempted to get up from the ground. He grunted really hard. "And what was this whole lie about me breaking your stupid fishing pole? If I wanted to break something of yours and you get mad about it then I would have broken..." He stopped. Henry turned his attention to his delinquent brother and grinned. "What should I break of his, say brother?" Gilbert deliberately stared at John. Watching him struggle in pain gave him the worst idea. "His arm," he grimaced, "His leg. His body. His everything. Break him." Henry slowly turned his head back at John. John stared at them in fear as they avenged towards him. He managed to get one knee up and with all his energy, lunged for the opposite direction. "Let's get him." Henry and Gilbert chased after him.
Anyone could have easily thought that John would get away from the abusing hands of Henry and Gilbert Finch. John thought so as he ran for his life past trees, bushes, and occasionally spider webs, but none of his efforts would matter in the end as he tripped on a tree root and flew some paces forward. The wind was knocked out of him and he again tried desperately to lift himself up. Too late however, as Henry and Gilbert caught up to him. Out of breath, they grabbed his shoulders and wrung him up onto his feet. Gilbert held him by his arms as Henry right-hooked his forehead and rebounded with a punch to the stomach. "Please... no," he pleaded, choking on his blood. "Guess you shouldn't have lied on me for your own petty reasons, Scrub. And a knife to my throat? Are you crazy?" Henry punched him again, this time in his rib cage and watched as John slumped to the ground, grasping his sides. "You had enough?" John looked at him. He snarled and spit the thick mass of blood onto Henry's shirt, some of it going onto his own face. "Go to hell." Henry's nostrils flared as he punched and elbowed and slapped him until his own face was splattered with John's blood. Henry had seized his arm and kicked it against the tree behind them, snapping his forearm into two.
When Henry backed away, he saw that John barely had any breath in his body. "Piece of shit," he said. Gilbert kicked him twice in his back as he walked around to his brother's side. Henry got down on his knees and in John's face. He whispered so low that not even Gilbert could hear him. "If you ever walk away from this, I want you to know that if you say anything to anyone... I'll kill her. And that's a promise." Henry looked at the sky. It was setting. "Gilbert, come here." Gilbert spit on John then retreated to Henry. "Yeah?" Henry got into a stance, a bracing formation. "I need you to punch me as hard as you can. Give your all." His eyebrows furrowed "Why you want me to do that?"
"Just do it, stupid." He brought his fist from the air and made contact with Henry's jaw, sending him backwards on his butt. "Why you little..."
"What? You told me to hit you." Henry gnashed his teeth together to get his jaw back into a comfortable position. "Let's go," he said as he lifted himself up. "We have to get back before Mrs. Biyora suspects anything." Gilbert started to follow his brother when he looked back at John. "What are we gonna do about him?" Henry paused in his tracks. He turned around to face John, who had passed out from his injuries, and whom he had forgotten about already. He waved for Gilbert to follow him back over to him. "I got it," he finally said after inspecting the damage. "Grab his legs and I'll grab his arms."
"What do you have in mind, Henry?" Henry didn't respond, but instead counted to three. On the last count, they lifted John up and struggled with their own footing. "Here's the deal. We are going to take John and ourselves back up to the farm." Out of shock, Gilbert dropped the legs. "Why would we do that!?" Henry cocked his head. "Gil, really?"
"Sorry." He picked the legs back up. Together, they collectively carried John back through the forest.
"My plan is to stage the whole thing; make it seem like me and the scrub got attacked by wild boars," Henry said after awhile of carrying John. They had sat him right-side up against a tree trunk to catch a breath, and frankly feeling back in their arms. "You really think they're going to believe you," Gilbert asked kicking over an ant pile, watching each ant scurry in chaos. "Of course they will. I'll just tell them that the mama boar got a hold of John and did this to him." Henry picked a rock and threw it into the distance. He waited to hear it land somewhere before turning to his little brother. "Let's go. It's getting dark." Gilbert sucked his teeth. "But do we have to? This bastard is heavy. Can't we just leave him here and you get our dads to come and get him?"
"No! Now get your ass over here and help me." Gilbert stomped his way back over to John. "Fine. But this time I get his arms." Henry pointed at the feet and waited for him to give up his demand that they should switch body parts. They hoisted John up over another countdown and proceeded to make the rest of the journey back to the farm.
They finally reached the fence and laid John down behind them. They crouched closer to the fence posts. "Okay, I got this from here. You go along the fence and comeback through the meadow." Henry pointed along the fence line and waited for his brother's conformation. "I need you to notice me dragging John so that you can draw attention, understand?"
"Yeah, I got it." Henry shoved Gilbert away and watched as he ran along the tree line until he disappeared. He took a few steps back to John. He managed to pull him onto his shoulders and go through the fence by lifting the slab of wood and climbing through it. Once on the other side, he placed John on the ground, hooked his arms under his and began the long walk up the driveway. He looked up behind him and saw the oak tree coming into view. "You better be there."
Gilbert struggled to find his way through the tall grasses of the meadow. He kept swiping and swatting, but the grass always found its way back into his face. Finally, when he saw the roof of the house approaching, he ran even faster until he tumbled out of the meadow, out of breath and covered in pollen. He bent over his knees, seemingly unable to catch his breath, until he remembered what it is he was supposed to be doing. He beckoned around the house just in time to see Henry's head peeping over the hill. He bent back to take in a large breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. He waited a little longer for Henry to get over the hill before he said anything. "Oh my, God! Henry, is that you? Where have you been? We've been worried sick," he shouted unenthusiastically. Everyone in the vast yard included Jo-ann in the rose garden, James and William on the porch, and Ruth-Ann on the opposite side of the house painting the shutters. They all looked to where Gilbert was lazily pointing and rushed to Henry all at once, once they saw who he was dragging.
Henry's family heard of his news and so did the Biyoras. Everyone rushed towards him and crowded the two. "What in the hell happened to you, son," asked Perry. Jo-ann spoke for him. "WHAT?!" They all helped Henry onto his feet and into the house while Wilma directed all of her children to go inside.
Once they were all inside, the Finches walked to the back of the house and into Perry's study. When everyone caught up to them, Xavier started raising hell. "WHO IN THE HELL SENT OUR BOY INTO THE FOREST?" As soon as he shouted, Wilma slammed the door shut. Perry stepped into the circle "Hey! We're not as happy about this as you are. I'm sure there's a reasoning behind this," he said.
"Look fellas, we don't know what's going on, but if you have to blame someone, blame me. I'm the one who sent them out alone, but I only wanted good intentions to come out of that. It was obvious that something was going on between them, but I thought it was just because Henry accidentally broke John's fishing pole."
"HE DID WHAT?! Not the fishing pole I made for him when he was five?"
"Is that why John said that to our boy," asked Darla. Wilma turned her attention to her. "I'm afraid so." Xavier pulled a flask from his coat pocket and took a swig. "Well, I see," he said after swallowing the dark liquid. "Then let me apologize on my boy's behalf."
"No need," Perry said. "Like she said, it was an accident." Just then a knock on the door interrupted them. Wilma reached for the knob and opened it to Jo-ann standing with wild eyes. "The ambulance is here," she said, then walked off.
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