The Bully Page 6

  Darrell knew that paying Tyray was wrong The shame and guilt he felt for giving his mother’s money to a bully swept over him in unending waves. What kept him going was the hope that Tyray and Rodney would stop hurting him, that he would be able to walk through Bluford without feeling threatened.

  A few minutes after he arrived at the supermarket parking lot, Darrell spotted Tyray and Rodney coming towards him. Tyray led the way. He was smoking a cigarette. Both boys eyed Darrell as they approached.

  “Whatcha got for me, little man?” Tyray asked. He threw his cigarette down, walked directly in front of Darrell, and blew a cloud of smoke into his face.

  The smoke stung Darrell’s eyes and caused him to cough for a few seconds. Tyray smirked. Then Rodney mumbled something, and both boys chuckled. Quickly, Darrell reached into his pocket and pulled out six one-dollar bills and a handful of change. When they saw the change, Tyray and Rodney looked at each other and started laughing.

  “That boy musta robbed his momma’s piggy bank to pay us,” Tyray said between fits of laughter. Darrell looked down in shame. Because he had spent some of his mother’s money earlier in the week on lunch, he only had six dollars to give to Tyray. To make up for what he had spent, Darrell had taken money from his old change jar. He barely had enough coins to add up to the remaining four dollars.

  Tyray took the money from his hands. “Darrell Mercer, you are the sorriest punk in all of Bluford. Ain’t no one else there who’s as small, dumb, and poor as you.” The words were like sharp knives. Darrell knew they were true. He opened and closed his eyes to hold back tears. He could feel Tyray and Rodney looking at him, judging him.

  “Mommy, the kids are being mean to me again. Nobody likes me here. I think I’m gonna cry,” Tyray whined. His voice was high-pitched and raspy like the sound of screeching brakes on an old city bus. As he spoke, Tyray twisted his face into a look of mock sadness, and pretended to sob uncontrollably. Rodney howled in laughter. Then, both boys slapped hands and turned back towards Darrell. A crooked smirk spread across Tyray’s face.

  Darrell hated them. He hated the power they had over him. He hated that they knew what hurt him most. But more than anything else at this moment, Darrell hated the smirk on Tyray’s face. It was vicious, ripping through Darrell as sharply as any insult. Through Tyray, Darrell saw how pathetic he was to the rest of the world. He saw something else too, something that frightened Darrell as much as it enraged him. In Tyray’s gleaming eyes, Darrell saw the bully’s pleasure in humiliating him. Tyray’s smirk made Darrell want to crawl into a hole and never see another person again.

  “Next time, I want dollar bills—not change. You hear me?” Tyray said, poking his finger forcefully into Darrell’s chest. “Or else you’ll be swallowing your own teeth,” he threatened.

  Darrell nodded. He could not look into Tyray’s face. The shame hung on him like a weight tied to his chin, forcing his head down and his eyes to stare at the ground. Silently, Darrell turned around and walked towards Bluford. Behind him, he heard Tyray and Rodney resume their laughter. At one point Darrell thought he heard Rodney say “stupid fool.” He did not turn back.

  With each day that passed at Bluford, Darrell hoped things would get better, but they never changed. Every day, he lived with the fear of Tyray and the shame of paying him. The stress took its toll on his schoolwork. Darrell could not concentrate on anything, and his grades reflected it. Even in subjects he once got B’s in, Darrell was now getting C’s.

  But grades were just part of his problem. In school, Darrell could not k into the eyes of his peers. He was sure most kids at Bluford knew he was giving away his mother’s money, and he feared they would laugh at him just as Tyray did on Friday. He wondered if anyone else from Bluford was watching when Tyray grabbed the money from him and gloated. The second time Darrell paid him, Tyray forced him away with a violent shove. Darrell left the parking lot quickly, hoping no one would see him, but he was sure someone did. And they must have told the rest of the school. Girls must know what I’m doing, he said to himself. That’s why they won’t even look at me.

  The only girl at Bluford who Darrell had really talked to was Amberlynn, but even she seemed to speak to him less. She must know too, he thought. He figured she did not want to talk to a coward. The only other person at Bluford Darrell really knew was Harold. But one day Harold was sick and missed school, and Darrell sat at lunch alone again. Darrell knew he had to do something, and he needed to do it soon.

  At home, things were not much better. His mother, caught up in her new job, never questioned Darrell when he told her school was “fine.” She did not seem to notice that Darrell was packing lunches either. He wondered if she noticed how quickly the peanut butter and jelly disappeared. One time she asked him if his appetite had increased. “Yeah, Mom,” he said, “I’m hungry all the time.” He could not tell her the truth—that he was bringing lunch to school and saving her money for his Friday payment to the bully.

  “You know what it means when your appetite increases, Darrell?” she asked. “It means you are getting your growth spurt. Soon you’ll look like your Uncle Jason.” Darrell was glad she was happy, but he felt guilty allowing her to believe such a lie.

  You have no idea what is happening to me, he thought as she smiled at him. But he said nothing. Darrell knew that now, more than ever, he was completely alone.

  That is when he decided to take up Mr. Mitchell’s offer. He knew the English teacher might have forgotten or not meant what he said, but Darrell did not know what else to do. The more he thought about Tyray and his own slipping grades, the more he realized he had to speak to someone.

  On the last school day before Thanksgiving weekend, Darrell headed for Mr. Mitchell’s classroom. Darrell had just left his last class and was moving quickly, eager to catch Mr. Mitchell before he left. He was grateful to find the teacher at his desk.

  “Mr. Mitchell,” Darrell said, “you got a minute?”

  “Yeah, sure, Darrell,” Mr. Mitchell said. “Have a seat.”

  Chapter 7

  Darrell sat down in the chair closest to Mr. Mitchell. It was where Tyray sat. He did not know where to begin. As he searched for the right words, Mr. Mitchell broke the silence.

  “You’re having a rough time here, aren’t you, Darrell?”

  “Why do you say that?” Darrell asked, feeling defensive. He wondered if Mr. Mitchell was looking down at him the way kids at Bluford did. Maybe Mr. Mitchell thinks I’m weak just like Uncle Jason does, Darrell thought. Part of him wanted to get up and walk out of the classroom.

  “Darrell,” Mr. Mitchell said, “I was a lot like you when I was your age.” Darrell looked closely at Mr. Mitchell. He was a stocky man with broad shoulders and dark skin. He was nearly six feet tall. He looked like he was never Darrell’s size.

  “Yeah, right,” Darrell said. “You?”

  “Really, Darrell. I was the smallest kid in my class, and big guys used to hassle me all the time. I got beat up at my bus stop once in front of a busload of kids. I even got my gym clothes put on a flag pole in front of the school. After all that, I started lifting weights and doing exercises, and it helped some. But what really helped was developing inner toughness,” Mr. Mitchell said. “Now I know you’re tough. Any kid who is picked on in school is putting up with a lot more than those who aren’t picked on. Just coming to school knowing what your day is gonna be takes courage. I know. I’ve been there. What you got to remember is that you can always make yourself stronger. You can do it on the outside with sports and exercise. And you can also strengthen yourself on the inside, so you are tough enough to handle whatever happens.”

  “But how?” Darrell asked.

  Mr. Mitchell looked through a few desk drawers and pulled out a book. “I have a book you should read,” he said. “It’s Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. It’s a story about a boy stuck in a dangerous situation. To survive, he has to make himself stronger, both on the outside and on the inside. Read it. I think you’ll ge
t a lot out of it.” He handed Darrell the book.

  “Thanks,” Darrell said. “But I don’t like to read books.” It was true. He could not remember the last time he finished a book.

  “Darrell, you came in here looking for a change, right? Here is something that can help you get stronger. This isn’t an assignment for class. But if you want my advice, read the book. I think it will help.”

  Darrell looked at the book. How’s this thing gonna help me with Tyray? he wondered. The only way Darrell could see the book helping was if he hit Tyray over the head with it. Maybe Mr. Mitchell did not know what he was going through after all. Darrell put the book in his backpack. He was disappointed. He wanted an answer to his problem, not a book. He looked over at Mr. Mitchell.

  “Darrell, if a student is really giving you trouble, I can help,” the teacher said. “If he threatens you or hurts you, we can have him suspended or even expelled.”

  “No,” Darrell replied. He knew that would just make it worse for him. “I want it to stop, but I want to be able to handle it myself.”

  “Well, if there comes a time when you really can’t handle it, let me know, and I’ll do what I can, okay? You’re not alone,” Mr. Mitchell said.

  Darrell left the classroom feeling better now that someone knew how bad things were. But he still did not have a solution to his problem. Despite what Mr. Mitchell said, Darrell still was alone.

  At home, Darrell raided the refrigerator, making himself two tuna fish sandwiches. He had gotten used to eating after school, especially since he started giving his lunch money to Tyray. At least I don’t have to see Bluford for four days, he thought. The Thanksgiving holiday meant two extra days off from school.

  After he finished his sandwiches, Darrell did push-ups. He had done them every day since he met Tyray. Once in a while, he thought that his arms and chest seemed a bit tighter than they used to be. But he still was shorter and skinnier than everyone in his class.

  As he finished his push-ups, he thought about his conversation with Mr. Mitchell. “But you can also toughen yourself on the inside,” he had said. Darrell wanted to be tough all over, so tough he could look in the eyes of any kid that stared at him. He wanted to be so strong that no one would ever laugh when he was around. He wanted to be bigger, taller, and stronger than Tyray.

  “Yeah, right,” he mumble. “I’ll never be those things.”

  Still he wondered why Mr. Mitchell had insisted that he read a book. He went over to his backpack and pulled out Hatchet. It’s stupid to think a book can do anything about a bully, Darrell thought as he opened it to the first page.

  The book began with a kid named Brian going on a trip to visit his father. So what, Darrell thought. I don’t even have a father. He turned the page. The story described how Brian had to take a private plane ride to get to his father’s house. Darrell put the book down for a second. Only a rich kid would be able to afford a private plane ride, he thought. He did not feel like reading a book about a rich kid who had an easy life. Darrell wondered why Mr. Mitchell had given him the book. After reading two pages, he could not see anything good in the story. I’ll give it one more chance, Darrell decided. Again, he picked it up and started reading. And then the book changed.

  While Brian was flying in the small plane, the pilot had a massive heart attack and died right in front of him. Watching in horror, Brian realized he was stuck in a tiny plane high above a huge forest, and he did not know how to fly. Worse, Brian had to crash the plane in order to get back on the ground. Brian knew he might not survive the crash, but he had no choice. He had to land it. As Darrell read on, Brian was described as being totally alone.

  Darrell may never have been in a plane before, but he knew what it was like to be in an impossible position. And he knew what it was like to be alone. He decided he would use the four days off to finish the book. He had nothing else to do. Besides, he wanted to see what was going to happen to Brian.

  Thanksgiving weekend was the first time Darrell did not hate California. He did not mind it because he did not have to go outside. He did not have to go to Bluford or see Tyray. The only thing that bothered Darrell during the whole holiday was listening to Travis pick on his little brother. But even that was better than usual because Travis did not act as mean when his father was around. Darrell knew that hiding inside with his family for four days was not going to solve his problems, but it felt good to have time to relax.

  On Thanksgiving Day, Darrell and his mother joined Uncle Jason’s family for dinner. His mother had made a big honeyed ham, candied sweet potatoes, and creamed corn. His aunt and uncle had prepared a huge turkey along with a platter of stuffing cooked with butter. For dessert, there were apple, pumpkin, and cherry pies. Darrell made sure to eat everything. It seemed that when he ate, he only remained full for an hour or so. Then he felt hungry again. His mother teased him about his appetite, calling him “the bottomless pit.” Uncle Jason seemed pleased that Darrell was eating so well.

  “Maybe that boy will grow yet,” he said to Darrell’s mother. Darrell did notice that some of his clothes seemed tighter. But he still saw a scrawny guy staring at him in the mirror each morning.

  “It doesn’t matter how much I eat, I still look the same,” he said to his reflection the day after Thanksgiving.

  When he was not eating, Darrell was reading Hatchet. He could not put the book down. He eagerly read about how Brian managed to crash-land the plane in a small lake and how he narrowly escaped drowning. Then Brian faced new challenges. He had to find food, and after that, he had to protect himself from animal attacks. Darrell read the book late into the night, long after his mother went to bed. He still could not understand what it had to do with him or why Mr. Mitchell thought it was so important for him to read. But it didn’t matter. Darrell liked the book. When he was reading it, he d not think at all about Tyray.

  By the time Darrell finished the book on Saturday, he knew why Mr. Mitchell had given it to him. Brian was transformed in Hatchet. Changed completely. Mr. Mitchell thinks I can change too, Darrell thought. But how? It was the same question he had asked himself for years.

  Darrell noticed that Brian was a lot like him. When Brian’s plane crashed, he was severely bitten by insects and attacked by a porcupine that shoved its sharp needles deep into his leg. Then he got violently sick from eating poisoned berries. After each problem, Brian got angry and frustrated. He wanted to give up and go home. Darrell knew those feelings well. He wanted to give up every Friday and run back home to Philadelphia. Darrell may never have been alone in the woods, but he was alone at Bluford. And to him it seemed just as bad. Maybe worse.

  But Brian changes in Hatchet , Darrell thought. I’m never gonna change.

  Darrell read the part about Brian’s transformation again. He wanted to see if there was a secret he was missing, a sentence that would give him the inner strength Mr. Mitchell had mentioned. If there was, he could not find it. In Hatchet, Brian changed when he realized that he was not going to survive alone in the woods. Darrell felt the same way about Bluford High School. He knew he had to change if he wanted to survive, but he did not know how. He hoped the book would give him answers, but all he had were more questions. He flipped through the pages again. Darrell noticed that Brian changed most when he started using his mind to solve his problems, instead of just complaining about them. At that point, he taught himself to build a fire, to fish, to make a shelter—to survive.

  But real life is different, Darrell thought, and I ain’t Brian. I don’t need to build fires. I gotta survive high school, not the woods. Darrell would rather spend a night in the woods than another day at Bluford.

  Though the book confused and frustrated him, Darrell had a favorite part. It was the end of the story, when a pilot came to rescue Brian. Instead of finding a scared kid, the pilot found a young man standing before him. Brian was still small, and he was exhausted. But he was strong, inside and out. And Brian was tough—tougher than ever because he had survived storm
s, injuries and wild animals. Darrell could feel his pulse quicken, imagining himself in Brian’s shoes. I want to be that tough, he thought.

  As good as the book was, Darrell still did not know what to do next. He still did not know how he would get friends, how he would learn to look people in the eye, or how he would deal with Tyray. He still felt like the same Darrell.

  He wondered what Brian would do if he met Tyray.

  Run back to the woods, he thought.

  Chapter 8

  On Monday, Darrell did not want to go to school. The next break would not be until Christmas, and all he could see was an endless string of miserable days stretching in front of him. Before he left, he grabbed the two peanut butter sandwiches he had hidden from his mother that morning and put them in his backpack.

  During morning classes, Darrell could not concentrate on the day’s lessons. He kept wondering if his life would change. But he also had another question, one he got from Hatchet: What should I do to change things?

  Darrell was putting books into his locker just before lunch when someone shoved him from behind, sending his body halfway into the locker. The side of his head hit the metal door with a loud thu Then he heard familiar laughter. It was Tyray and Rodney.

  “Tyray, I told you to be more careful in the hallway. You might hurt somebody,” Rodney said. Darrell looked up to see the two of them already halfway down the corridor.

  Darrell wanted to yell. He had given them his mother’s money, and they were still hurting him. Yet he knew if he said anything to either of them, his treatment would only get worse.

  Darrell felt trapped again.