Jeremy Stone Read online

like me?

  No. I tried. I really did.

  She might not believe me.

  She might think I’m damaged in the head.

  Many people do. Lots of people.

  But she likes you, Jeremy.

  She’s pretty intense.

  That’s one of the things I like about her.

  Me too, I said,

  although I realized now

  that maybe he’d see

  I really did “like”

  her.

  I guess you could

  say I

  had a

  crush.

  I was thinking

  maybe I shouldn’t

  get involved

  with this Jenson Hayes.

  I guess Jenson saw the look on my face.

  Jeremy, he said. Old Man told me

  to tell you that you should

  always drink

  from the mountain stream

  and not

  city water.

  Of course.

  I knew what Old Man was saying.

  Sometimes my grandfather

  can be a pain in the ass.

  But we really have to do something

  about Thomas.

  Revenge? I asked.

  That didn’t sound right.

  My grandfather never

  believed in revenge.

  He never even spoke of getting revenge

  against all the Europeans who stole our

  land and fucked up

  a sweet way of life.

  No, dude. Not revenge.

  We need to change him

  so he can see

  the light.

  Back With the Living

  Final period at school French class

  I am wondering why I am learning French

  and not the language of

  my grandparents. Old Man

  kept trying to explain to me when I was young

  that what language you use shapes the way you think.

  English, he said, is

  a language of things. Every thing has to have a name.

  Our old tongue

  was better at showing relationships. Even people’s identity

  showed connections. Your name

  in the old language would not be Jeremy Stone

  but something else

  and you would be

  “Boy with strength and rock-hard courage

  but kind heart.”

  I thought he was goofing

  but maybe not.

  OM also told me

  there were no curse words

  in our old language.

  When you wanted to curse someone

  and say something really unkind, he said,

  you had to use English ’cause

  there are so many really unkind words

  in that language.

  Language expresses the heart and soul of a culture,

  he lectured to me when I was young

  but he could tell I wasn’t paying good attention.

  Funny to think that that was

  way back when

  my grandfather still had a body

  to put clothes on each morning.

  Someday, he’d say,

  I’ll have to give back this ole body you see here.

  It’s only borrowed, he said,

  to trap my spirit for a little while

  so I can walk upright

  and give advice to my

  grandson.

  Thomas Heaney in French Class

  I knew it was too soon to confront

  Paper Clip. And I knew he’d be pissed

  at me

  for beating him fair and square in wrestling.

  He saw me looking at him

  and shot me

  a really nasty look. Silently mouthed something that must have been Fuck You Indian.

  Well, at least he didn’t think I was Italian anymore.

  Just then, Ms. Framboise

  called on me

  ’cause I wasn’t paying attention.

  Monsieur Stone, she said, or perhaps you would be Monsieur Pierre, Oui?

  Monsieur Jerome Pierre sounds like the name of a Parisian movie actor.

  Paper Clip made a face and held his nose.

  Ms. Framboise asked me a question in French.

  I had

  no clue

  but I answered anyway

  with something stuck in my head from a previous class.

  I said, La neige est froide aujourd’hui.

  Which she told me later meant:

  The snow is cold today.

  Which was not the answer to the question.

  The class laughed.

  Paper Clip, I think, nearly peed himself.

  I did my usual:

  turned to stone, me Jerome Pierre,

  and that’s when I saw

  Jenson Hayes sitting in what had been an empty desk over on the side of the room near the windows.

  He too was mouthing some words.

  And then the words were clear as a bell in my head,

  so I added,

  Pardonnez moi, mademoiselle. Mon francaise est terrible. Excusez-moi.

  And I could tell Ms. Framboise was impressed.

  Jenson had given

  me just the right thing to say

  and everyone stopped laughing.

  Hey, Jenson, I said silently in my head.

  Will you be there for me on the final exam?

  I could really use your help.

  Jenson nodded but then I heard him say,

  That’s cheating, you know.

  And I realized it was

  but then having a dead dude give you answers for a final exam

  seemed like

  a cool way

  to survive French.

  The Troof

  When I was young

  the Th sound always came out like F.

  I’m better now

  but sometimes

  I retreat and talk like I did

  when I was

  little.

  But then, I still don’t talk much;

  mostly listen

  and watch.

  I don’t know why

  but I don’t think I was ever capable of lying.

  My mom

  sometimes when she was high

  in a weird way

  (she wasn’t always weird when high,

  sometimes she was funny, sometimes nice)

  but when it got ugly

  she’d accuse me of stealing her smokes

  or eating all the food in the fridge

  Jeremy, come here, she’d screech

  Did you do this?

  No, Mom.

  Are you lying to your mother?

  No. I’m telling

  the troof.

  The troof.

  But she didn’t always believe me.

  and she’d get weirder, angrier

  and more and more not-my-mom.

  So I’d go ahead and say,

  Yeah, Mom. I ate the food in the fridge

  (even though it was moldy sometimes

  and green and smelled bad)

  and I stole your smokes and sold them to kids

  (which I would never do, believe me).

  But my mom would hug me then

  and cry and say, I love you, Jeremy

  and I forgive you. I wish your father

  was here.

  So I guess I was lying about

  saying I never lied.


  But my mom settled down mostly and got rid of all the really bad addictions except smoking and drinking and sometimes thinking too much about men. And my dad was still Out West.

  And me

  I was sticking with

  the troof as best I could.

  I, Jeremy Stone, swear to say the troof, the whole troof and nothing but the troof, so help me God, which is why you have to believe me when I tell you about Old Man and about Jenson Hayes. I wouldn’t, couldn’t make something like that up.

  Yeah,

  so help me God.

  And by the way, God

  please help me figure out

  how I’m supposed to help Jenson.

  The Troof Versus Paper Clip Heaney

  I mean

  I really didn’t like the pressure,

  didn’t like it

  when I knew

  I HAD

  to do something.

  Me,

  I prefer to hang back

  and watch others

  and let

  things

  happen.

  I don’t like

  confrontation,

  don’t like

  getting too involved,

  don’t like

  getting

  involved at all.

  I

  like

  invisibility.

  Sorry, dude,

  Jenson said.

  Sorry, but … you know.

  Yeah, I knew.

  Personally, I think Old Man told Thomas

  where I would be after school,

  down walking along the little creek with

  the floating plastic pop bottles,

  old tires, and shopping carts

  thinking that someday I’d come and clean this place up,

  get rid of the garbage

  and help this sad little creek out.

  I guess I was just standing there listening to the water

  talking to me

  saying,

  We know you, brother.

  We flow down from the hills

  where some of your dead relations

  reside.

  I felt less alone hearing that voice

  but still kept feeling sorry for the stream

  and staring at a couple of

  used condoms

  hanging from the branches of

  birch trees.

  And there was Paper Clip

  with two other guys I didn’t know.

  That’s Robert and Tyler,

  Jenson said. A couple of

  fucks.

  I was thinking about Geronimo again

  ’cause his people had been ambushed

  and then he fought back

  with the same tactic.

  Jeremy Stone, right? Thomas said.

  I nodded an Indian nod,

  made my back straight.

  Worried?

  About what?

  Us?

  It was what you might call

  kind of classic.

  A scene played out

  since

  the beginning of

  time.

  Right, Old Man suddenly said,

  like a bad TV show,

  like the old

  cowboys and Indians.

  Quick, change the channel.

  So I told Thomas

  (and Robert and Tyler)

  the troof.

  Jenson says

  I’m supposed to

  talk with you.

  Who?

  Jenson.

  Jenson Hayes.

  Paper Clip stared at me.

  Robert and Tyler (those two very ordinary

  looking white boys) looked puzzled.

  You know.

  Can’t say I do. He some asshole

  friend of yours?

  Not really, I said.

  Not when he was alive.

  Whaddaya mean?

  I sighed. I didn’t ask

  to get involved, I admitted.

  Involved in what?

  This?

  What THIS is

  is me coming here

  to beat the crap

  out of you.

  (Thomas

  was getting his old mean self

  back in focus.)

  Do you hate me?

  Of course I do. We all do.

  (Guess this meant Tyler and

  Robert—

  the Tybob twins.)

  Do you hate a lot of people?

  I hate people who are weak.

  I’ll take that as a yes.

  I hate people who …

  I cut him off. Yeah, I said.

  I know what you do to

  people you think

  are weak.

  So?

  So, I continue, Jenson says

  you can’t do that to anyone

  ever again.

  The two white boys were still puzzled.

  Fuck Jenson.

  You can’t tell me what to do.

  Of course not, I said.

  You need to decide

  that for yourself.

  I’m only telling you

  the troof.

  And, yes,

  it came out with

  the F instead of

  the Th and I felt my breath

  rushing out in a warm burst

  between my

  lower front teeth

  and

  my

  top lip.

  What Happened After That

  I couldn’t see him

  but I heard Jenson’s voice again.

  Jenson told me that someone eventually found Caitlan’s stolen cell phone and a version of the text message sent to Jenson was still on it. So I repeated that information to Tommy.

  He’s here now,

  I added

  just for flair.

  Hey, I was now

  writing the script

  and I was tired

  of cowboys and Indians.

  Geronimo!

  I still don’t know why Thomas didn’t beat the crap out of me as in the original script. I don’t think I fully got to him. But he was confused the way people are when you rewrite the old cliché story, especially when you bring dead people back into the mix. Old Man kept coaching, saying, You’re doing just fine, Jeremy. Don’t be afraid.

  And I wasn’t afraid.

  What could he do to me?

  The phone thing was getting to him, maybe.

  Evidence.

  Paper Clip liked to sneak around

  and do his nasty work knowing

  he wouldn’t get caught.

  What cell phone? he asked.

  I don’t know about any

  stolen cell phone.

  But Jenson had nothing on this.

  And Old Man just shrugged.

  So I said squat.

  And that

  seemed to work.

  Thomas Paper Clip

  gave me the finger

  and threatened me

  with a look.

  Tybob just stood there too

  like they were waiting for

  Thomas to tell them

  what to do.

  So I decided

  to walk

  ever so calmly

  away.

  My back was

  to them

  and they could have

  tromped me

  but they didn’t.

  And the sad little
creek

  just said,

  You did good.

  Just keep walking

  and we’ll watch your back.

  So I silently told the creek I would come back someday soon and haul those rusty shopping carts out of the water and clean up all the garbage.

  The flowing water just laughed.

  What the Water Said Next

  Good work, Jeremy.

  Water runs downhill.

  Maybe you can teach those boys

  to take that hate they have

  and turn the energy into something good.

  I was thinking that maybe it wasn’t the

  water speaking but Old Man

  or maybe even Jenson Hayes

  but the water (or whatever)

  was reading my thoughts

  and said,

  Stoney,

  it’s all the same.

  Spirit is spirit.

  Well, I didn’t want to argue with that

  but

  I didn’t think this thing was over with Thomas

  and I wondered how he would ambush me next time.

  So what do I do now? I asked the water.

  Go home

  and make supper for

  your mom.

  She’s not

  feeling too good.

  The Evening Meal

  Yeah, my mom was pretty low. Depressed.

  She was reading a book

  called A Woman’s Guide to Mental Health.

  Whoever wrote this book doesn’t understand

  the first thing about women, she said.

  Who wrote it?

  A man, she said.

  A doctor.

  He doesn’t know

  diddly.

  Well, I knew I had to do something to try to get my mom out of her mood.

  Lasagna, I said.

  I’m going to make some

  Lasagna.

  She looked up at me

  and smiled,

  well,

  tried to

  smile.

  How’s school, Jeremy?

  I got out the lasagna pan and

  spaghetti sauce

  and pasta.

  I think I’m learning a little French, I said.

  And psychology (although that wasn’t really a school subject).

  What does psychology say about depression?

  I’m not sure

  but maybe it happens when you feel

  overwhelmed with everything.

  Well, that’s me.

  Did you learn

  how to fix it

  so a person

  can feel better?

  I shrugged and continued to make lasagna.

  They say drugs and alcohol don’t work.

  A little halfhearted laugh from Mom.

  My son,

  the genius, she said.

  What else?

  They say you have to stay busy, get involved