But it wasn’t the hands that had forced my head back. What had made my head bounce back in a catapulting spring was his ear finally torn from the side of his head. As I was pulled away from him, I could see what little remained of it, a small indented piece with the earhole and a bloodied lobe beneath it, bits of stained cartilage looking like they’d been taken to by a saw blade.
He was passed out and lying on his gut, blood seeping out in a small torrent that was forming a puddle in the dirt beside his head, dust and bits of grass floating on its surface. I was being carried away by two men who I had never seen before and as I turned to look at the crowd, I saw a couple of girls also passed out on the grass. The ones still standing were all staring at me with wide eyes that were vacant, their faces flushed and sick.
I saw another kid who had given me shit a couple of days prior, Tim or Tom or whatever his fucken name was. He was just staring at me, looking like he was about to puke. Then, I remembered the piece of Reedy still warm in my mouth and spat it at him, the chunk of ear bouncing in the grass just in front of his feet. He saw it with horror then held a hand to his mouth as his breakfast let go, the vomit streaming between his fingers.
It was enough to make me giggle a little, although it only lasted a few seconds as a fist struck me on the side of the head, sending me into dreamland.
That was the first time I had ever tasted blood. It was also the first time I saw how it affected people around me. From that day on, everyone stayed out of my way. It didn’t bother me too much as I had Eddie to talk to. And he was always close by.
But what I did remember, remember very clearly, were the faces in the crowd that day. The jeers, snarls and insults that they spat at me. I took inventory of every person who stood on the side of Reedy Thompson. The day would come where I would repay each of them for the shit they put me through.
7.
They made me sit in one of the toilet cubicles while the principal called for the police, the doctor and my father. The first arrived and just happened to be Royce Packard. He came into the toilet and just stood by the door, staring at me. My face felt sticky with blood and my shirt was covered in it. I tried to wash it from my hands but it had congealed beneath my fingernails, which I was staring at while he watched me. When I was sure he would never go, he finally spoke.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
8.
As we came out of the school, I saw Royce’s police car sitting in the parking lot and began heading toward it. Home was around 3 miles out of town back then and my legs felt rubbery from the beating I had.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?” the big man said from behind me. I stopped to look at him but he was already walking the other way. “Think we’ll take a stroll.”
Eddie groaned inside my head as I turned back to follow him, not hurrying to catch up. The clouds were beginning to thicken overhead and looked bleaker towards the horizon we were now walking towards. This day would turn even pissier if we also had to walk around in the rain.
Royce must have slowed his steps because within a couple of minutes I found myself beside him, trudging slowly along the footpath, flanked by one of the tallest men in Cider Hill. I peered through the chain-link fence and could see faces watching us, or rather, me. Their beady eyes were wide with curiosity, hovering just above the bottom of the window as if trying to hide.
I saw a couple of girls raise their faces and poke their tongues out at me. One ran her finger across her throat while appearing to laugh. I looked down at my feet as we trudged along and tried to put push them from my mind.
“Move it. Want to get back sometime today, kid,” Royce said, grabbing a handful of my hair and dragging me a little forward. Why do people always know exactly where the sensitive hairs are? You know, the ones right down the back of your head?
“Sorry, Sir,” I said, trying to sound puffed, hoping that he’d cut me some slack, but there was no sympathy from him. He grabbed me painfully by the shoulder, digging his ridiculously long fingers into the flesh and yanked me forward a couple more feet.
9.
We continued towards home and eventually made it out towards the main road. The walk had been mostly in silence, the policeman whistling occasionally. It was the same tune, over and over again. He seemed to be smiling. Not just on his face but his whole demeanour seemed to be reflecting joy. He had a spring in his step, waving his arms as he walked, almost as if dancing.
As we passed the final few houses before reaching open road, my stomach began to feel an uncomfortable heaviness. It was then, as the final cottage passed by on our left, soft music reaching out to us through its open windows, that the policeman began to speak.
“So, you like chewing on ears?” At first, I didn’t know what to say. I tried to think of something, anything to answer him with, but then as he spoke again, realised he didn’t need me to reply. “You certainly have a decent set of teeth on you.”
The footpath was coming
