The Prisoner of Cell 25 Read Free Page B

. . what happened?”
    A lump came to my throat. “Jack and his friends wouldn’t leave me alone.”
    “Oh, honey,” she said. She held me for a couple minutes, then she slowly sat back up. “Did it . . . happen?”
    I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to upset her more than she already was. “I’m sorry, Mom. I tried not to. But they wouldn’t leave me alone. They were trying to pull my pants off.”
    She gently brushed the hair back from my face. “Stupid boys,” she said softly. I could see the worry on her face. “Well, they had it coming, didn’t they?” After a moment she said, “I’m sorry, Michael. I wish I knew what to do.” 
    “Why won’t they just leave me alone?”
    My cheek was twitching and she gently ran her thumb over it.
    Then she leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I wish I knew, son. I wish I knew.” 

6. The Morning After
    My radio alarm clock went off at the usual time: 7:11. I had my radio set to the Morning Zoo show. The hosts, Frankie and Danger Boy, were talking about people who suffered from bananaphobia—the intense fear of bananas.
    I gently touched my eye. The swelling had gone down some but it still ached. So did my heart. I felt like I had betrayed my mom and I worried that we’d have to move. Again. The thought of starting over filled me with dread. I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for her. I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. You look pretty sorry , I thought. I showered and got dressed, then walked out to the kitchen.
    My mother was standing next to the refrigerator dressed in her orange work smock. She was a checker at the local Smith’s Food Mart. She was making waffles with strawberry jam and whipped cream. I was glad, not just because I loved waffles, but because it meant she wasn’t mad at me.
    “How’s your eye?” she asked.
    “It’s okay.”
    “Come here, let me see.” I walked over to her, and she leaned forward to examine it. “That’s quite a shiner.” She pulled a waffle from the iron. “I made you waffles.”
    “Thanks.”
    I sat down at the table, and she brought over a plate. “Would you like orange juice or milk to drink?”
    “Can I have chocolate milk?”
    “Sure.” She went back to the kitchen counter and poured me a glass of milk, then got a can of powdered chocolate from the cupboard and stirred some in. The sound of the spoon clinking against the glass filled the room. She brought the glass over to the table, then sat down next to me.
    “So these boys who were picking on you . . .”
    “Jack and his friends.”
    “Do I need to call their parents?”
    “I don’t think Jack has parents. I think he was spawned.”
    She grinned. “What about the other boys?”
    “They crawled out of the sewer.”
    “So would it help if I called these sewer creatures’ parents?”
    I cut a piece of waffle and took a bite. “No. It would just make things worse. Besides, I don’t think they’ll be messing with me anymore.”
    “Do you think they’ll tell anyone what happened?”
    “No one would believe them anyway.”
    “I hope you’re right.” She looked across the table. “How are the waffles?”
    “Good, thanks.” I took another bite.
    “You’re welcome.” Her voice was pitched with concern. “Did anyone else see what happened?”
    I swallowed. “A girl.”
    “What girl?”
    “She’s in one of my classes. She was telling them to leave me alone when it happened.”
    The look of anxiety on her face made my stomach hurt. After a moment, she stood. “Well, I guess we’ll just cross that bridge when we get to it.” She kissed me on the forehead. “I better go. Want a ride to school?”
    “No, I’m okay.”
    Just then there was a knock. My mom answered the door. Ostin stood in the hallway. “Hello, Mrs. Vey.”
    “Good morning, Ostin. You’re looking sharp today.”
    Ostin pulled in his stomach. He thought my mother was a “babe,” which made me crazy. Ostin