Читать книгу Gwen - E. Lippert - Страница 9

Chapter 5

1983

A Fresh and Immediate Target

Gwen remained friendless from third grade through sixth. It was okay, really. She was good at keeping herself busy. She learned not to think about what other kids were doing, to not be hurt when kids at school were all talking about birthday parties they were invited to or what they had done together that past weekend. She listened but pretended not to hear. She pretended not to care, told herself she didn’t care, and kept busy with other things.

She did her homework, studied, worked out, and read. She read everything she could get her hands on—history, economics, psychology, biology, politics. She also read newspapers and magazines, not fashion magazines but publications like Time, Life, National Geographic, and The Atlantic. If she expressed an interest in a subject, her parents made sure she had related reading material. Consequently, she knew more than most of her teachers, more than most adults that she knew. She enjoyed showing that off too, especially to the hoity-toity college students who would come and visit her parents. Gwen suspected that her parents enjoyed this as well.

At the start of seventh grade, there was a new girl in their school, Claire Lambertson. Claire was tiny, unkempt, with frizzy blond hair, and she wore Coke bottle glasses and walked with a slight limp. Claire was a fresh and immediate target for her fellow classmates.

Gwen watched from a distance as Claire’s tormenting began. Claire was safe in the classroom, but out in the halls or in the lunchroom, she was fair game. It looked like Claire was pretty good at ignoring the taunts of “Your hair looks like a rat’s nest” or “Hey, buy some conditioner!” or “Hey, gimpy!” or “You’re in the wrong school. First graders don’t go here!” and, of course, the ever-popular “Hey, shorty.” Gwen suspected this was not new to Claire.

What was difficult for Claire to ignore was the physical abuse. It started with kids just pushing her in the hallway. It quickly escalated to pushing her hard enough to knock her down. Some of the taller kids would steal her books and then hold them up high enough over her head so that she couldn’t reach. Others would simply knock her books out of her hands and then laugh as she knelt down to pick them up. Not only was Claire too meek to defend herself, she was also too small.

By about the fourth week of school, Gwen had enough. She was angered by what she saw, and she pitied this small girl. She had seen kids bullied before and never thought twice about it, but something about Claire pulled at her heart. Every time she saw someone mistreat the girl, she would become infuriated and sad at the same time.

Her first defense of Claire came almost immediately after she had made up her mind to step in. Walking to her next class that day, Gwen came upon Claire being tormented by a boy named Sam. He was holding her books up high, and Claire was trying to pull his arm down to get to them. Gwen couldn’t see Claire’s face, but she knew how she felt. She knew that Claire was probably close to tears and trying hard not to let them see her cry.

Gwen kept walking until she was even with Sam and Claire. Without looking at anyone or even breaking stride, she switched her books to her left arm and threw an amazing punch with her right arm, catching Sam right in the gut. Gwen kept walking. She never looked back, but based on the sounds that followed, she knew the books had fallen to the ground, and so had Sam. Gwen smiled and continued on to her next class.

Over the next few weeks, Gwen learned Claire’s schedule and made sure to hurry to Claire’s class at the bell and then follow her to her next class. If anyone laid a hand on the girl, Gwen would wait and then follow them. Once out of Claire’s sight, Gwen would find the offender.

Even the bigger kids weren’t safe from Gwen. They may have had height and muscle on their side, but Gwen was ruthless, merciless, and fearless, and most of all, she was prepared. She would wait until the bully had his or her locker open and brutally bump into that person from behind, hurling them into the locker. With girls, sometimes, she would follow them into the ladies’ room and wait patiently for them to use the stall, and as soon as she heard the latch open on the inward swinging stall door, she pushed against it with all her weight, catching the student by surprise and hurling them backward against the wall or, better yet, the toilet. Sometimes, it was as simple as tripping the bully in the hallway, on the stairs, or, and this was Gwen’s particular favorite, in the cafeteria while carrying a tray of food. Some bullies would return to their lockers at the end of the day to find their coats drenched with water or milk. Her attacks were stealthy, quick, and painful, and Gwen would nonchalantly walk away before her victims even knew what happened. But always, later that day, the bully would find a note in his or her locker telling them that if they bothered Claire again, the punishment would be much worse the next time. And Gwen made sure it was.

It didn’t take too long for the bullying to stop, but Gwen continued to walk behind Claire every day between every class. If anyone called out to Claire, Gwen stared them down. If anyone even looked at Claire the wrong way, Gwen stared them down. While no one had proven that Gwen was Claire’s avenger, it was well-known, and the unassuming, unfortunate-looking, chubby seventh grader inspired fear among her classmates.

She was walking behind Claire one day after things had settled down. The two girls had never spoken, and Gwen didn’t think Claire knew the role she played in lessening her torment. But that day, when Claire reached her classroom door, she turned back to Gwen. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Me?” Gwen said, surprised.

“Yes, you.” Claire smiled. “I know you’ve been protecting me. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Gwen turned to walk away.

“Hey, wait,” Claire called after her. “Do you want to come to my house this afternoon? We can play a game or something.”

“I don’t know,” answered Gwen. She hadn’t been invited to anyone’s house in years. She had no idea if she wanted to go or not.

“Think about it, okay? I’ll see you after class.” And with that, Claire entered her classroom.

Oh, crap, Gwen thought. What do I do now? She worried as she hurried to her class, and she worried all during class. I feel bad for this girl, but I don’t know if I want to hang out with her. She sighed. What else are you going to do this afternoon, Gwen? she asked herself. In the end, she decided, I’ll go today, and if I don’t like it or she even looks like she’s going to turn on me, I won’t go back.

Gwen met Claire at the end of class, and this time, for the first time, they walked together. Gwen kept an eye out for any threats, but Claire seemed unaware. They chatted about their classes and teachers. When they made it to Claire’s classroom, Gwen said, “I would like to come over today, if that’s still okay.”

“Great!” said Claire, smiling brightly. “I’ll meet you out front, and we can walk there together. Do you have to go home first?”

“No, nobody is home at my house until around six, so I’m good.”

“Yeah, nobody’s at my house until five today.”

“Okay, see you in an hour then,” said Gwen as she turned and walked away. She was hoping that she had made the right decision. Her goal was to play a game or two and then hightail it out of there before Claire’s parents got home. Making a new friend was enough excitement for one day.

As scheduled, the two girls met in front of the school at the end of the last class. Both were carrying an armload full of books. The burden was not a problem for Gwen, but Claire seemed to be struggling.

“Can I help you carry any of those?” asked Gwen.

“No, thanks. I’m used to it.” Claire smiled. “It’s not a long walk. I only live a few blocks away. Mom says it helps me build muscle.”

Gwen smiled and thought to herself, Yeah, as long as you don’t fall over.

As they walked, Claire chatted on and on about a lot of things—school, her house, her mom. Gwen listened politely but, inside, was terrified, worrying about how to act and if Claire’s family would like her. Before she knew it, they were walking up the sidewalk to Claire’s small house. Turned out, Claire only lived two streets over from Gwen. The house was much smaller and the yard completely overgrown with weeds, but it seemed like a nice house. Balancing her books in one arm, Claire fished in her pants pocket with the other to retrieve her key.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?”

“I’ve got it.” Claire smiled. “I do it every day. It’s easier than putting everything down and having to pick it all up again! It’s all about balancing the books just right.”

“I can see that,” replied Gwen, nodding and smiling. “Impressive.”

With that, Claire had the door open, and both girls went inside. Claire led Gwen into her bedroom where they both dumped their books on the bed. Gwen looked around; the room was nothing fancy—a bed, a desk, a dresser, a closet. But Gwen’s attention was drawn to one entire wall in Claire’s room that was nothing but bookshelves. The top shelf had pictures and knickknacks, and the bottom shelf had games, but the middle two shelves were jam-packed full with books. “Wow!” said Gwen, impressed. “This is awesome. Have you read all of those?”

“Yes, the ones I haven’t read yet are here,” said Claire, opening her closet to reveal a smaller bookcase packed with books. “I love to read.”

“So do I,” said Gwen, “but I don’t think I’ve read this many books!” Gwen walked down the length of the wall, scanning the titles of the books Claire had read. “Would it be okay if I borrowed one sometime?”

“Sure! Whatever you want, just not from the unread shelf yet.” Claire smiled. “I get anxious if I don’t have a good selection to choose from.”

“I hear ya,” agreed Gwen. “I usually go the library for my books, but if you don’t mind, this is even better!” Gwen liked the idea of being able to browse shelves of books without having to wait on one of her parents to drive her to the library. Then they had to stand around waiting for her to make her selection. She always felt rushed. “I see you like history.”

“I do. Those are probably my favorite, but I like other types too. I like books that are either true or seem like they could be true.”

“Me too.” Gwen looked at her new friend. She felt comfortable with Claire. “Do you remember most of these after you read them?”

“Yes, especially if I enjoyed them.”

Gwen had an idea. “If you pick out a book or two that you liked, I’ll read them, and then we can talk about them.” She stopped for a second and looked at Claire, worried that she had just said something dumb. “Does that sound stupid? If you think it’s stupid, we don’t have to.”

“I think it’s a great idea! Sometimes, I talk about books with my mom, but she doesn’t have much time for that anymore.” Claire walked to her books and started looking through the titles for what she wanted.

“I hear my mom and dad discussing books or articles, but those are usually science related, new discoveries, stuff like that. I like to read them too, but when I join in, they want me to hear their opinions but aren’t really interested in mine.”

“Yeah, I guess that kinda takes the fun out of it,” Claire replied without judgment. Claire grabbed a paperback. “How about The Thin Red Line? Have you read that? It’s sad but really good. Takes place during World War II.”

“No, I haven’t,” she said, taking the book from her friend. “Thank you.”

“Let’s stay with the WWII theme…hmm…here we go, The Diary of Anne Frank.” Claire looked at Gwen.

“Read that one, really sad too.”

“Yeah, it was. Well, we can talk about that one today. How about The Naked and the Dead?”

“No, that’s on my ‘to read’ list though! I heard it’s really hard to read.”

“It is,” said Claire, handing Gwen the book. “That gives us three to start with!”

Gwen continued to scan the bookshelves. She noticed a leather case sitting on top of the books on one shelf. “What’s that?”

“That’s my mah-jongg set.”

“Your what?”

“Mah-jongg. It’s a Chinese game my mom taught me to play.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s fun!” declared Claire. “It takes a while to learn, but once you get the hang of it, it’s fun. Old people play it a lot.” Claire smiled. “There are a few ladies at the senior center that play. I go down there every once in a while to play with them.”

“That’s nice,” Gwen said doubtfully.

“It’s fun. They enjoy it. They give me soda while I’m there, and I think they just like having someone young come in and hang out with them. Maybe you can go with me sometime?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” Gwen wasn’t convinced that it would be much fun. “I need to learn to play first, I guess.” Gwen thought that should buy her some time.

“Okay, then let’s start today!” Claire pulled the case down and led Gwen out to the kitchen. “Maybe in a few days, once you have the basics, you can go with me and play at the senior center. We can play together as one player, and you can learn while we play. Those ladies are awesome.”

“We’ll see,” said Gwen. She wasn’t sure she would like the game yet, and she surely wasn’t sure she wanted to play with old ladies.

They sat at Claire’s kitchen table, and Claire opened the case and started right in explaining the game. Gwen quickly realized that Claire wasn’t kidding when she said it would take time to learn! For one thing, it was a game for four people, so they each played two “hands.”

They had been playing for about an hour when Claire’s mother came in. Gwen’s first impression of Mrs. Lambertson was that she looked so young. She had long blond hair, pretty blue eyes, and a perpetual smile. She was also very short, not much taller than Gwen herself. “I’m home, my love!” she called as she walked in the door.

Claire jumped up from the table and ran to her mother, giving her a big hug. Mrs. Lambertson hugged her daughter back tightly, lifting her off the floor, and kissed her on the top of the head. “How’s my angel?” Gwen felt a slight stab of jealousy. Her parents never greeted her like that.

“Good, Mom. Come meet my friend.” Gwen broke out in a sweat. She had wanted to be out of here by now.

“Mom, this is Gwen…Gwen…Gee, I don’t even know your last name, Gwen!” She laughed.

“Marsh.”

“Well, hello, Gwen Marsh,” said Claire’s mom, reaching out to shake Gwen’s hand.

“Hi, Mrs. Lambertson.” Gwen wasn’t quite sure what to do, so she stood up and shook the woman’s hand.

“Please call me Miss Ann. Mrs. Lambertson makes me sound too old.” She smiled at Gwen. The smile seemed genuine to Gwen, and she allowed herself to relax a bit.

Gwen sat back down. “So, Gwen, is that short for Gwendolyn?”

“No, ma’am, it’s short for Gueneviere.” Gwen smiled. “My parents thought that a pretty name would make a pretty child.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, they were right!” exclaimed Miss Ann, coming over to Gwen and giving her a quick hug. Gwen stiffened; she was not used to anyone touching her, certainly not someone she had just met.

Sensing Gwen’s discomfort, Miss Ann quickly released the hug and changed the subject. “So have you girls been playing mah-jongg all afternoon?”

Claire answered, “Yes, I’m teaching Gwen. She’s learning fast too. We also like the same books, so we’re going to have a book club. We’ll read books and talk about them.”

“Awesome!” Miss Ann seemed pleased to hear this. Gwen watched this woman closely as she removed her coat and listened with enjoyment as her daughter talked excitedly. Gwen noticed that she was wearing scrubs.

“Are you a doctor, Miss Ann?”

“A nurse. I work at Saint Joe’s Hospital, cardiac care. Do you know what that is?”

Gwen smiled. “Sure, I do. That’s for people with heart issues.”

“That’s right! Aren’t you smart?” Miss Ann smiled, and Gwen knew that her comment had no malice, no sarcasm. She was genuinely pleased that Gwen understood. “Well, that’s what I do. I help take care of people with heart ailments.”

“Do you like it?”

“Most of the time,” said Miss Ann. “Sometimes, it can be difficult, but mostly, it’s very rewarding.”

Gwen nodded and tried to think of something to say. She liked Miss Ann, but she was still nervous. “What does Mr. Lambertson do? Will he be home soon?”

Claire looked at her mom. Miss Ann thought for a second and replied, “Mr. Lambertson passed away two years ago.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Gwen stammered. She had just met these people, and already she was screwing up. Her eyes filled with tears.

Miss Ann walked back to Gwen and hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, sweetie. You had no way of knowing. And we like to talk about Dan. So thank you for asking about him! You are such a sweet girl.”

Gwen was shocked. She didn’t think they would throw her out for asking, but she didn’t expect Miss Ann to be so sweet about it. “I am sorry.”

Ann stood up. “I know you are, sweetie, but there’s no need to be.” She smiled brightly. “Now would you like to join us for dinner tonight? I have no idea yet what I’m making, and I don’t promise anything special, but we would love to have you.”

Gwen was torn. Part of her wanted desperately to stay, but part of her was still terrified. “I would love to, but I have to give my parents notice if I’m not coming home for dinner.”

“Okay, then how about tomorrow? You can ask them tonight if tomorrow is fine. How does that sound?”

Claire looked expectantly at Gwen, nodding her head yes.

“That sounds great. Thank you, Miss Ann,” replied Gwen, smiling. She was happy because these two people seemed to genuinely want her company and also because she had a full twenty-four hours to prepare herself.