“What’s happening, Moses? Where’s Tag?”
“I don’t know, Georgia. But can you come? I need you. And I have a feeling that before this is all over, Millie’s going to need you. There are certain things you can’t talk about with a man. Even if he’s your lover’s best friend. Especially if he’s your lover’s best friend.”
I WAS PARKED in front of Amelie’s house Monday morning, waiting for Henry to leave for school. I’d coaxed the information out of Robin when she came to pick up Henry from the bar, determined to figure out who had bruised up his face. Henry had gone to the bathroom to relieve himself of a bladder full of Sprite, and I’d grilled her. I hadn’t said anything to Millie that night or even at the gym Saturday, but it wasn’t okay to ignore it, and the thought of someone making Henry’s life miserable, of someone putting their hands on him, gave me the itch to hurt people. Bullies and bitches. Hated ‘em. So I took it upon myself to intervene, beyond just teaching him a few moves at the gym.
Robin said Henry walked to and from school most days. It was only a few blocks, and sometimes Millie walked with him. He went to regular classes in a regular high school and, according to Robin, he got decent grades. Apparently Millie was in frequent contact with his teachers and was on a first-name basis with the administration. I wondered how much he participated in his classes and how well he got on with the other kids. Robin said he didn’t have any friends that she knew of. Judging from his lip, he was getting some attention from someone. I told Robin I would handle it. She seemed a little surprised and then shrugged.
Henry left the house at seven-thirty, and I was idling at the curb, my truck warm, two cups of coffee in the drink holders. I didn’t know if Henry liked coffee, but I did. I felt like a creeper, waiting at the curb for a kid, but I rolled down my window and greeted him easily and asked if I could talk to him for a second.
“And I’ll take you to school so you won’t be late,” I added when Henry looked at his watch.
He smiled widely, like my presence was welcome, and trotted around to the passenger door without protest. I made a note to talk with Henry about stranger danger and creepers. He shrugged his back-pack to the floor and took the coffee I handed to him with a grateful groan. I chuckled and we sat, doctoring our brew for a few minutes before I jumped into the conversation that needed to be had.
“Henry? You need to tell me what happened to you. Why was your lip swollen? And who put that bruise on your cheek?”
Henry blushed a deep crimson and choked a little on his coffee. He set it down and wiped the back of his hand across his lips uncomfortably. I felt my temperature rise a notch.
“You know, the reason I wanted Millie to bring you to the gym was so I could teach you how to defend yourself. But that’s going to take a while. And in the meantime, I want to know if someone is giving you trouble at school.”
Henry wouldn’t look at me.
“Henry? Whose ass do I need to kick?”
“You can’t.”
“I can’t what? Kick a giant’s ass?” I said softly, remembering his cryptic talk of giants.
“Not a giant. A girl,” Henry whispered.
“A girl?” I wouldn’t have been more surprised if he told me Millie had punched him in the face.
“My friend.”
I shook my head. “No. Not a friend. Friends don’t smack you around.”
Henry looked at me and raised his eyebrows doubtfully. Touché.
“Well, they don’t smack you around unless you ask them to,” I amended, thinking of all my friends at the gym who regularly slapped me around.
“What did you do?” I asked, trying to understand. “Did you say something that upset her? Or is she just a bully?”
“I told her she was like a sumo wrestler,” Henry said softly.
“You said that to her?” I yelped. “Ah, Henry. Don’t tell me you said that to her.” It was all I could do not to laugh. I covered my mouth so Henry wouldn’t see my lips twitching.
Henry looked crushed. “Sumo wrestlers are heroes in Japan,” he insisted.
“Henry,” I groaned. “Do you like this girl?”
Henry nodded.
“Cool. Why?”
“Sumo wrestlers are powerful,” Henry said.
“Henry, come on, man. You don’t like her because she’s powerful,” I insisted.
Henry looked confused.
“Wait. You do?” Now I was confused.
“The average sumo wrestler weighs over 400 pounds. They are huge.”
“But she’s not huge, is she?”
“No. Not huge.”
“Does she look like a sumo wrestler?” I asked.
Henry shook his head.
“No. But she’s big . . . maybe bigger than other girls?”
Henry nodded. Okay now we were getting somewhere.
“So she punched you when you told her she reminded you of a sumo wrestler.”
Another nod.
“She blacked your cheekbone and split your lip.”
Henry nodded again and smiled slightly, as if he was almost proud of her.
“Why did you say that, Henry? She obviously didn’t like it.” I couldn’t think of a girl who would.
Henry gritted his jaw and fisted his hands in his hair, obviously frustrated.
“Sumo wrestlers are awesome!” he cried.
“Hey man, I get it. Talking to girls is hard. I said all kinds of stupid things the first time I walked Millie home. Luckily she didn’t punch me.”
“Amelie isn’t a fighter!” Henry said, and laughed a little, releasing his hair and taking a deep breath.