Elegy - Chapter 8

I made it a habit to check my text messages and voicemails at lunch, since we weren’t allowed phones inside of school. Normally, there wasn’t anything, but occasionally there was something from the label that I needed to respond to, so I kept the habit.

Still, even though I did it with the express purpose of being able to respond to things quickly, I was still surprised every time I found a message waiting for me. It was no different Tuesday when I saw a text from Mr. Eaves to call him back at his office. It was still early in the lunch period, but I debated whether I should or not, since he had a habit of leaving me on hold forever when I called, and I didn’t want to burn my entire lunch listening to smooth jazz or whatever it was they played while I waited.

Tuesdays were one of the days I sat with Sydney, and I didn’t want to worry her by missing most of lunch. She’d been a little clingy that morning, probably because the lunch with her family had been kind of a disaster. Even though her dad had been the one to invite me, he’d treated the entire event like an interrogation, and everyone at the table could feel the tension. I didn’t want to give her the idea that I was upset by it or anything.

Still, Mr. Eaves rarely texted me or had me call him unless it was important. I shrugged on my coat and went out through the side doors to the football field bleachers. They were usually pretty packed in the warm months, but no one was crazy enough to come out here to eat when everything was still covered in snow. Unfortunately, it was one of the few places I could make a call from while at school and not get in trouble.

I brushed off a pile of snow, creating a makeshift seat, and huddled in my coast against the biting wind. To my shock, Mr. Eaves was the one to answer, which literally had neverhappened before.

“Charlie, thanks for calling me back,” he started once we’d dispensed with the usual niceties. “I wanted to let you know the summons and the case against you has been withdrawn. I know you were worried about it.”

“I wouldn’t say worried, since I knew I didn’t do anything and it was bullshit, but I still want to know how this had happened. Everyone keeps telling me a DA will only bring a case he thinks he can win, and when the sheriff is willing to publicly say he doesn’t think the charges are legit, and the person who originally accused me admitted in front of a witness it was a mistake, I can’t imagine this was a case he ever thought he could win. I assume it was about the locker search thing, right?”

“Yes. It was about the locker search. I didn’t get to speak to him directly, but in the request for dismissal of the charges, he claims the case was brought by accident as part of a batch of cases. Just a bureaucratic blunder.”

“That still doesn’t explain how it ever reached him. I mean, how does he hear about drugs found in a school locker search when no one reported anything? I’m guessing he didn’t say how this ended up in his office, did he?”

“No. I don’t think a school would normally send the results of drug searches directly to the county DA, especially when they called the sheriff in, asking for him to file charges. Still, you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know everything that’s going on here, and the worst thing you can do is start making decisions based on a hunch. If you think someone at your school is trying to get you in trouble, then the best thing you can do is keep your head down and not give them any excuses. That makes it a lot easier for us to respond to anything that happens, like we did here. I have defended many people over the years that would have walked on the initial charges, but who fought or talked their way into additional charges I couldn’t get them out of.”

“That’s what the sheriff said to me after the meeting with the vice-principal,” I mumbled.

“Then maybe consider it to be good advice.”

“What about the DA? This has to be some kind of ethics violation, right? I mean, he can’t just go around accusing innocent people, right?”

“You’d be surprised,” Mr. Eaves said. “Yes, there are ethics rules, but proving malicious prosecution is a whole other ball game. For one, it requires showing intent, which we don’t have. We’ll keep a record and if this keeps happening, we could argue a pattern. Just remember, Campbell’s a sharp guy. If he is doing this on purpose, and I’m not saying he is, he’s not going to make the same mistake twice.”

“Damn, that’s just … bullshit. He can just slap me with a criminal case and then be like, ‘Whoops, my bad?’”

“That’s just the way the law works.”

“All right. Thanks for letting me know,” I said, although I knew I sounded less than thankful.

“Sure. Just keep your nose clean and let me know if anything else happens, before you talk to the sheriff,” he said, putting extra emphasis on that last part.

With a sigh, I ended the call, dusted the snow off my coat, and headed back to the cafeteria. I appreciated the heads up, sure, but I couldn’t help feeling a little sour about it. This was going to annoy me for the rest of the day, and I still had a quiz in fifth period that I needed to focus on.

***

Band practice dragged on for hours that Wednesday. We were still banging away on The Little Things but kept getting distracted by Marco going on about updating our merchandise design. I didn’t disagree that we did need to look into it, but sometimes I just wished he could enjoy what we had instead of constantly searching for something better.

Talking about the merch did lead me to thinking about Hanna. It had been almost a month since she’d gone back to college and I felt a twinge of guilt about it, since it was mostly my fault. During the first semester, I only ever called her when I needed something or wanted to complain. She, on the other hand, would call to check in and see how I was doing.

Getting home, I’d already pulled out my cell phone to call her to fix my error when I saw Kat sprawled on the couch, textbooks and notes strewn around her. Practice had run long, but even with that, I never got home after her. Her damp hair clung to the back of her neck; she must have come straight from swim practice.

“What are you doing home so early?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.

“Because I live here,” she said, not even looking up.

I rolled my eyes, “You know what I mean. You’re never home this early after practice.”

“The pool’s being serviced tonight so coach cut practice short.”

“Oh, well I am gonna call Hanna. You wanna talk to her when I’m done?”

Her eyes lit up, “Definitely!”

“Give me like 15 minutes.”

As I walked by her on my way upstairs, my tormenting side got the better of me as I passed, and I reached out, giving her ponytail a light tug.

She whipped around, swatting at me as I danced out of her reach, laughing. I could feel her glare burning into my back as I jogged up the stairs, dodging the pencil she flung at my head.

“Now you have to come get this!” I called over my shoulder, grabbing the pencil and holding it up as I continued up the stairs.

She shouted some colorful insults, suggesting where I could shove that pencil, but I could hear the laughter in her voice. We play this game, teasing each other in harmless fun. We’re so comfortable together and this is how we show it.

Closing my bedroom door, I dialed Hanna’s number. I knew she was out of class and usually free on Wednesdays so I hoped she’d pick up.

Sure enough, she answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Charlie, what’s up?”

“Nothing much,” I said, flopping onto my bed and staring at the ceiling. “I just realized we hadn’t talked in a while and I miss you.”

“Aww, I’ve missed you too,” she said, her voice softening. “I’m glad you called. You, Mom, and Kat have all been so busy lately, no one has time to talk.”

“Well, Kat’s been busy; I’ve just been a bad friend.”

“Stop fishing for pity points. Besides, I do still hear a few things, like you making Varsity again.”

“Yeah, tryouts went well. The only downside is Harry and Paul made the team too.”

“Ignore them and focus on what you need to do. The more you think about those guys, the more they win.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just that every time I see his stupid face I want to punch it.”

“Just wait until he gives you an excuse, then you can do it without getting in too much trouble.”

“There’s literally nothing I can do without getting in trouble. I didn’t mention it to Kat or your mom ’cause I didn’t want them to worry but did you know Mr. Packer tried to plant some weed in my locker during a locker search? Called the sheriff and everything.”

“Really?” she sounded worried. “Did you get in trouble?”

“No, but only because I happened to see him confiscate the same bag a few days before and was able to identify the sticker on the outside. On top of that, even after he admitted it wasn’t mine, although he claimed it was a mistake, he went around the sheriff and got Aaron’s dad to file charges against me. Mr. Eaves got them dismissed but still … it’s such bullshit.”

“You need to be careful Charlie. If they’re doing stuff like that, they’re just looking for any reason to cause you trouble. I’ve met Aaron’s dad. He’s maybe the slimiest person I’ve ever met.”

“Both the sheriff and Mr. Eaves warned me to be careful too. I’m just trying to keep my head down and stay out of their way. It’s about all I can do.”

“Okay. Just … be careful. I worry about you.”

“I know. Oh, we got the merch in.”

“Really? How’d they like it?”

“They loved the printing, although Marco is demanding we get some new artwork. He thinks our old stuff is getting stale even though we haven’t had it for a full year yet.”

“I know. To be fair, we went fairly cheap on getting that first round done, so it wasn’t as good as you really deserve. Professor Cross’s group is starting to look for their next project. Maybe I’ll bring this up to them. We’ve been talking a lot about branding lately so I think it’ll fit nicely. Speaking of which, we really need to go over your social media activity. We’ve been looking at a lot of branding done through social media and there are some areas you’re missing.”

“Kat’s mostly been handling that. I try to post when I can, but I’m just not very good at it.”

“I know but she’s been so busy lately. You can’t just rely on someone else. What if someone from the band took it over? They’ve got more free time than Kat and she can still help when she has time.”

“Anyone but Marco. Maybe Lyla would want to do it.”

“Just be careful she doesn’t go rogue. People on social media can be bitchy and she has zero filter when it comes to striking back at people like that. The last thing you want for your band is to get into arguments with internet randos. You have to ignore that stuff and only engage with people who have positive stuff to say about your music.”

“Good point. Okay, I’ll think about it. I just thought that Lyla’s the most outgoing of all of us, and she can be really funny. I don’t have time to do it, I don’t trust Marco to do it, and Seth is a little too reserved to be good at it, I think. Which pretty much leaves her.”

“I didn’t say I thought it was a bad idea,” she said. “Just that someone has to keep telling her to keep it PG.”

“All right. I’ll talk to her. Can she call you if she has questions about what she should be doing?”

“As long as she stops hitting on me, yes,” Hanna said.

“You know she does that as a joke to get a rise out of you. If you didn’t respond, she wouldn’t do it. Besides, does she ever do it when it’s just you two and she doesn’t have an audience?”

“No, and I was joking, too. I get it. Yes, have her call me.”

“Okay. In other news, I might be coming to Raleigh.”

“Really? When?”

“I asked Warren to find us a gig. Kat’s been missing you so I thought I could find an excuse for us to both come down there.”

“Kat’s been missing me, huh?”

“Yep. I keep telling her you’re fine and we’ll see you next year or something, and point out all the fun we’re having without you, but she insisted.”

“See, it’s shit like this that’s going to end up with me not answering your calls.”

“Okay, I missed you too. I also thought it would be a good idea to have you walk around campus with Kat while we’re up there. She hasn’t said anything, but I know she’s nervous about going there next year and I thought the best way to help would be to start acclimating her to it.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Do you know when you’re coming?”

“No, not yet. We’ve got the show in Charlotte this weekend so that’ll come first. Are you going to be able to make it?”

“Yeah, I should. I’ve talked to Troy and he said we might be able to go.”

I couldn’t believe she was still with that guy. I’d only met him once, for like five minutes, and that was enough for me to hate him. And my dislike was nothing compared to her mom and Kat’s feelings about the guy. Hanna had famously been in some terrible relationships, including briefly dating Aaron, but I’d hoped Marcus had been a sign of things turning around for her. He’d been on the baseball team with me last year and had been really good to her.

The two had ended up going to college on opposite sides of the country, so their relationship had only been just a high school thing, but at least she’d gotten a taste of dating someone who wasn’t a total tool bag. Which is why it was so sad to see her with someone like Troy, who was both massively over-controlling and completely dismissive of her.

“You could come by yourself if he can’t come,” I suggested, trying to hint, as hard as possible, that maybe she shouldn’t bring him.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, I …” she started to say, and then paused as a voice yelled at her from somewhere in the distance.

“Bitch, hang up the phone,” I heard Troy say.

My blood boiled. He was lucky we didn’t live in the same town because I would have driven to wherever he was to give him the ass-kicking he deserved.

“I gotta go,” Hanna said suddenly, the line going dead before I could respond.

I just stood there, holding my phone in disbelief. I swear, when she was with him it was like she was a different person. On her own, she was always considerate, taking other people’s well-being onto herself. Almost to a fault. When she was with him, it was like no one else in the world, including herself, mattered except him. She knew Kat was waiting to talk to her after we finished talking but she hung up all the same.

The worst part was, I recognized the behavior. It was exactly like my mom and dad. If she wasn’t careful, it was going to end just as badly as it had for them.

And just like with my parents, there was nothing I could do about it!

***

Before it had started snowing, I normally went to the Blue Ridge after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays to practice with Chef behind the restaurant and then had a long break until after the dinner rush. Much like it had rearranged my baseball practices, the weather had played havoc with our schedule too. In Chef’s case, he didn’t cancel because of the cold, since whenever it was very hot or very cold he’d tell me the same story about how they used to make them train no matter what the weather conditions were when he was at the temple.

The dilemma was more of a physical nature; our training space was buried under heaps of snow. For whatever reason, the snow seemed to pile extra high behind the restaurant and since it wasn’t plowed like the parking lot, it was practically impossible to train there.

Instead, he’d had me practice meditation and centering in his apartment during our training sessions. I preferred the more physical end of training, because it had saved my ass numerous times and I liked the way I felt after a good workout. But, I found myself, surprisingly, enjoying the new routine.

Today, however, as I made my way through the kitchen to the backdoor stairs leading to Chef’s apartment, things had been set up differently. Someone had cleared away the snow that had blanketed the area previously, replacing it with large plywood panels propped up by braces and poles plunged into the ground, secured with clamps at the top, leaving a several-foot-wide gap between the two standing pieces of plywood. Walking around them, I noticed two wooden training posts set up between them, the same ones we used for close-hand work and blocking drills.

“I think we’ve had enough meditation,” Chef said, coming down the stairs. “It’s time we moved on to another practical piece of training, fighting in tight spaces. Specifically, fighting multiple opponents, since fighting one person in an enclosed space is not that dissimilar to fighting one person in a larger space, although maybe with a greater emphasis on Qínná. Joint locks are great for controlling one person, but leave you open to attack against multiple opponents. They can box you in, in an enclosed space like this.”

“I’m assuming there are ways one person can defend themselves against a group, right? Seeing as you’ve gone to all this trouble …”

“Yes. There are guiding principles when it comes to fighting in a confined space like this. One: guard yourself. The tight corners won’t allow for the dance of dodging or deflecting blows like you would in a wide-open field. Instead, it’s better to take a closed, defensive stance like this.”

He started in the standard open fighting stance, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, body turned at a forty-five-degree angle with his arms up and out, slightly bent at the elbows. It’s the one I’d come to know training with him. It allowed for the weight to shift as needed and lessened the physical profile you showed the enemy, while keeping your hands up. It, like most of Kung Fu, allowed for a middle approach where you were prepared for either offense or defense, with a focus on quick, fluid movements.

He then switched to something notably different, although close to what he’d shown me when we trained for standard boxing. The leg positioning was much the same, although instead of his feet planted firmly, he moved his weight to his toes, causing him to almost bounce back and forth. He was hunched over slightly. His arms were up high, with fists closed and somewhere between his cheeks and his temples, with his elbows tucked in close.

“Notice the shift in weight distribution,” Chef pointed out. “This stance has the stronger footing found in Muay Thai or Jeet Kune Do, both of which value mobility and robust defensive positions, more than the offense-heavy styles of boxing or Tai Kwan Do.”

“You also put your arms up, protecting your head, like in boxing,” I said.

“Exactly,” Chef confirmed, nodding his head in approval. “In a place like this, you’re not going to be able to avoid getting hit. So, like boxing, your primary goal shifts to safeguarding yourself from potential incapacitating injuries, rather than avoiding them completely.”

“So, it’s just boxing, right?” I asked, pretty sure I was missing something.

“No, not quite. In boxing, you’re only squaring off against a single opponent. Yes, you’ll take some hits, but trying to box your way out of a multiple-person brawl would be suicide. Even the best boxers can’t just stand there and take blows from all sides while they take one opponent down at a time.”

“That assumes they’re on either side of me. Wouldn’t something narrow like this help if a larger group of people were coming at me? It would limit them to one or two people attacking at a time.”

“That’s true, and that’s part of the strategy we’ll be working on. However, keep in mind that they’ll be trying to surround you. Don’t make the mistake of thinking your opponents will be any less skilled or knowledgeable than you are.”

“Okay. So if I am surrounded, and I can’t just box my way out, how do I keep from getting the crap kicked out of me before I can narrow down the odds? Boxing alone won’t cut it, at least not long term.”

“No, it won’t. It’s more about employing a mix of strategies. You’ve got other tools at your disposal. For instance, you can trap and manipulate one person, utilizing their body as a barricade against the others. You can use the walls as both a weapon and another surface to operate from, and you can focus on close-in attacks like knees and elbows, allowing you to stay protected while still landing hits. Don’t worry, we’re going to work on all of that today.”

“I can’t wait,” I said sarcastically, although in actuality I really couldn’t wait.

This was going to be fun.