I’m Nine Again - Chapter 3 Peas In A Pod

After the day of suspension, I continued going to school as usual. Even though I was way ahead of the curriculum, it wasn’t like I had a choice. This body that I was stuck in had me stuck, going to school every day. It wasn’t too bad, and as I said, it was easy work. It was better than going to an actual job at least. I also got plenty of access to pens and paper, I could write and draw to my heart’s content. Although, my fight the other day had drawn some more attention to me than usual. People were looking at me and clearly talking about me.

What drew my attention was one particular girl. She was short, blond hair and blue eyes and she had a perfectly pressed uniform. There was not a scratch on in. I started observing her when she started observing me. I noticed her my first day back, she almost didn’t take her eyes off me. It wasn’t like a childhood crush or an angry glare. Every time I saw her looking at me, it was like she was studying me. From my observations, she was the most popular girl in the class. When she wasn’t spending her time watching me, she would answer the teacher’s questions; correctly every time. She always had a group of other girls around her, all trying to impress her with their new games or stories. This went on for a few days, until one day when I had finished my work early, I’d felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up and a few of the other people in the class were half starting and me and half trying to make it look like they were still working.

“What are you working on?” the voice said.

Looking around at everyone else in the classroom, it wasn’t hard to guess who the person behind me was. I turned around to see her standing there. The teacher piped up from the front of the room.

“Laura,” she said, “Could you please not bother Travis while he does his work?” She asked.

“But Ms, Travis has already finished his work, see!” She said holding up my worksheet in front of the class.

The teacher stood up and walked over to where I was still sitting, and Laura handed over the paper. The teacher looked over it for a moment and then took the paper back to her desk, turning back towards us afterward.

“Well, I must say, Travis, I’m impressed. I’ve never seen you work this hard before. Maybe that suspension was good for you.”

“Pfft.”

“Well,” she continued, “Your work ethic maybe but your attitude could use some work. If you two are finished, then you can go into the reading room and read some books while everyone else finishes their work.”

She ushered us to the door. I went to grab my pen and paper, but the teacher placed her hand over them.

“I said some reading, not drawing.”

I’d finished my work early and she didn’t let me draw. She clearly had never heard of Pavlov’s dog. If someone does something good, you reward them, that encourages the good behavior to continue and vice versa.

We made our way into the reading room and the teacher shut the door behind us. Laura walked into the room and dropped herself down onto a bean bag. I started looking through all the books. They were all kids’ books, nothing that would remotely interest me.

“So,” she started, “What were you drawing earlier. What were all those funny symbols?” she asked.

I walked over to the beanbag across from her and sat down. I wasn’t sure I’d have much of an interesting conversation with a child, but I would be nice to humor her. It would also do well to increase my popularity, I had a long schooling life ahead of me.

“You probably wouldn’t be interested, but it’s a language,” I said.

“Ohh, what language?” she asked.

“It’s not a normal language,” I said, “It’s one that I’m making.”

Over the past few days, I had been trying to develop a language for me to write down my notes so that people wouldn’t be able to find them and read them. It would be useful but the problem that I was facing was that it was tied to English so that it was easy to create a cipher. I was considering adding a verbal element too so it wouldn’t be so cipherable but that was proving to be a task in itself.

“Oh you’re making a language!” she said excited, “can you teach me how to speak it?” she asked.

“It’s not really a spoken language yet, more of a written language,” I said.

“Well, can you teach me to read it then?” she asked again.

“Um,” I started, “I dunno. It’s kind of like a personal language. One that I can read and no one else can.”

“Why are you making that?” she asked, “Have you got secrets that you don’t want anyone to know about. Is it a diary!?”

“It’s not a diary,” I said, “Anyway, yeah, that’s what it is. I’m just messing around. It’s nothing serious.”

“That’s pretty smart, were you always this smart?” she asked.

I sat there for a moment thinking of what to respond. A lot of people had been telling me lately that I was different from my old self. Maybe I shouldn’t change too much from what this boy used to be like. The problem though is that this kid was a quiet, weak and timid kid. I wasn’t going to stay like that. Laura looked at me with intrigue. It was clear that she was well ahead of her peers in terms of her intelligence, but for some reason, she was attending a public school like me. Maybe she was asking her self the same questions. Not that she’d understand the intricacies of private and public schooling, but if anyone was going to guess that I wasn’t as normal as everyone else, it would be her. I’d have to be careful about what I say around her.

“I was,” I said, “But I kept getting picked on because I was a nerd.”

“Wrong,” she said, “You get picked on because you’re poor.”

Was she probing me for information with that question? I had no idea. Does she already suspect that there is something weird about me?

“And because I had girl’s hair,” I said, “That’s why I got a haircut.”

“Yes, and because you looked like a girl,” She said, “But you sure put them in their place!”

Once again, she exuded excitement as she asked her questions but now it really looked like she was purposely trying to ask probing questions. She was a lot smarter than I give her credit for.

“Well that, haha. My dad got sick of me crying all of the time and being a little weakling, so he started to teach me how to fight,” I said.

“Wow, your dad sounds like a tough guy,” she said, “Did you get that scratch on your face when he was teaching you how to fight?”

I winced internally at the sound of her calling my father a tough guy. He was a weak coward who hit women to make himself feel better about himself. I had more pressing things to worry about though, these questions were getting too much though. She was digging for as much information about my life that she could get. I couldn’t exactly tell her that I lived in an abusive home. She might get upset and tell the teachers, have my dad arrested before I have a chance to get Mum and June out of there safely. I couldn’t risk my plans going bad like that. I had to turn the tables.

“What about you?” I asked, “I haven’t really talked to you much before.”

“Ever.” She said.

“Ever,” I echoed, “You’re really smart. Aren’t there schools for smart people? Why are you here and not in one of those schools?” I asked.

“Well,” She said without skipping a beat, “I have a private tutor that comes to see me every day after school to help me with my work, but my parents say that it’s important that I grow up outside of a bubble.”

“What does that mean?” I asked already knowing what she meant.

“Ha!” she laughed, “I don’t know. I asked them if I could go to a private school and they said no and told me that!”

So, she already knew what a private school was. She really was smarter than I give her credit for. I can see where her parents are coming from though. Sometimes private schools give off an air of elitism that can trap people in a stuck-up mindset.

“And you?” she asked, “You’re really smart too apparently. Why aren’t you in one of those smart schools?”

“Because I’m poor,” I said, “Smart schools cost a lot of money, that’s what my mum told me.”

We took another moment of silence before continuing our conversation. It was obvious that we were both searching our brains for the appropriate questions to keep the conversation going in our favor. I was wrong though, this conversation was the opposite of boring, it was a challenge to answer her questions without giving too much information about my self away. I found it extremely exhilarating.

“I like you,” she said, “You’re really fun to talk to.”

I laughed, “Well, you’re better conversation than everyone else in the class. That’s why I’m quiet all of the time.”

“You speak like an adult,” she said, “Just like me.”

SHIT

“I really like to watch the news,” I said, “And I like learning new big words. I also read a lot of books.”

Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe I could have a friend in this world. Granted she was also only nine, but she was much smarter than everyone else around us. I would go as far as to say that she would even be smarter than my parents. She’s too smart though, whether she could see it or not, she was asking the right, dangerous questions. This friendship could either make or break me in this new world. I’d have to walk on a lot of eggshells.

“Would you mind if he hung out sometimes?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “You’re pretty popular. Are you sure you want to be seen with the poor kid?” I asked.

She poked her tongue out at me, “You’re smart enough to know that that’s not something I’d worry about.” She said.

At that moment, the teacher had walked into the reading room and stood over us. I flinched reflexively but quickly regained my composure. Laura noticed. The teacher cleared her thought.

“I understand that you two want to talk to each other but it’s distracting the other kids in class,” she said, “We can hear you from in there. Besides, I didn’t realize you two were even friends.”

“Yeah!” Laura said enthusiastically. She kicked me in the leg, “We’re the best of friends!”

“Hey!” I said, “Don’t kick!”

“I agree,” the teacher said, “Don’t kick. Now you two need to come back into class and go back to your seats. I thought I could trust you in here to be responsible but apparently, that’s not the case.”

Over the next week, we became casually closer. Starting off with, “Good Morning,” and, “Goodbye.” Then leading into me being invited to sit with her and her friends at lunch. I would chat with her occasionally, but her other friends didn’t like me too much. The other males in the classroom also didn’t like the fact that I was hanging out with Laura. They would always speak badly about me, loudly, whenever I would walk passed. They would ‘accidentally’ bump into me on my way to class. Not enough of a reason for me to respond by kicking their ass.

We were sitting together one time at lunch out in the sun. It was a rare occasion that the sun would be this warm in the middle of winter, so we were making the best of it.

“Hey Laura,” I said to get her attention.

She quickly adjusted her attention to me as I would rarely ever be the one to initiate the conversation. It was always on her.

“Do you know if there are any security cameras in this school?” I asked.

“Security cameras?” she asked, “I would have no idea. Maybe we could look for some. Why? Do you want to sneak in and do bad things?”

“No,” I said, “I just, I’ve got a plan to make the school take action on bullying and it would work a lot better if there was video.”

“That’s stupid, but I like it,” she said.

“I didn’t even tell you the plan!” I said.

“You’re going to get your self into a position where you get targeted by the bullies, maybe even get a few bruises and then you’ll go to the local media with the evidence. Am I wrong?” she said.

“HOW!?” I asked, “How in the hell could you have possibly known that I would do any such thing. I haven’t written this plan down, I haven’t talked to anyone about it, I’ve barely even conceptualized it. How could you have possibly figured out what my vague ideas were!?”

Laura chuckled to herself and then took a moment to regain composure. She looked back up at me with a smile on her face.

“Because that’s the smart thing to do,” She said, “Sure it might be entrapment but sometimes you have to play dirty to win the good fight!”

“You,” I said, “You are one incredibly scary individual you are.”

“Um,” one of her friends interjected, “You two are speaking English but I literally can’t understand a single thing you’re saying.”

“That’s because Travis is my smart friend,” Laura said wrapping her arms around me from the side and giving me a hug.

“Wow, that was rude,” her friend said.

“That’s okay,” Laura stated, “You’re my pretty friend!”

“Naaaaw, Laura!” she said. They wrapped their arms around and hugged each other tightly.

That day, after school had ended. Laura came up to me before we all went our separate ways home.

“Hey, about that camera,” she said, “I don’t think the school has any cameras, but my dad has this cool new digital camera. I think he might let me borrow it if I ask for it!”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I want to help you!” she said, “It’s more than just stopping the bullies with a taste of their own medicine. It’s making sure that the school can adopt effective anti-bullying policies to help the students that come to this school after us and the ones that come to this school after them!”

“You’d commit entrapment just for me?” I asked as a joke, “But seriously, do you think your dad will let you borrow his digital camera? They are really expensive, aren’t they?”

“If I tell him it’s important then sure. My dad really loves me. He would do anything for me if I look at him with my puppy dog eyes,” she said.

Her words cut deep, unknowingly to her. I don’t know why I felt that way. Was it jealousy? My real father in the future was a kind man and never treated me wrong. I guess I was jealous of her because my father now, the man who would insult me and beat my mother, was nothing but an ant compared to the way that Laura talked about her father.

“Are you able to do it tomorrow?” she asked?

“Huh?”

“I said, are you able to do it tomorrow,” she said again.

“I guess so, but why the rush?” I asked,

“Because,” she said, “If I ask my dad for the camera, I can’t exactly wait around for a few weeks until you do something.”

“I guess so,” I said, “So you’re going to ask him tonight?”

“Yeah, and you’re going to get beat up tomorrow,” she said.

“Wow, well thanks for your concern. But yeah, I think I can make it happen tomorrow,” I said.

“Good!” she said, “Well, half good. Not the part about you getting beat up. That’s not good.”

“I’d hope not,” I responded.

She chuckled again to her self and walked to leave the classroom. All that was left on my part was to go and get hit. It went against my nature. I was hit as a child. In primary and high school. I eventually learned to fight back, and I’ve been fighting back ever since. It was going to be really hard to not fight back when people were hitting me. Even though I know I’d be able to beat them easily.

* * * * *

“What did you say to me!?” The lanky kid asked.

His name was Davin I’d learned. There was the leader of the group, Davin, the other lanky kid, Jarrod, and the big kid, Cliff.

“I heard you guys keep talking about me and I want you to stop,” I said, “It’s called bullying and it’s not nice.”

I tried to speak as patronizingly as possible. I didn’t want there to be any way they could defend the incident. I looked over across the basketball court and saw Laura holding up the camera. When she saw me look, she gave me the thumbs up and then lowered her head to keep looking through the camera. David stood up from his lunch and walked over to me.

“It’s called bullying and it’s not nice!” he mimicked me in a dopey tone. His friends laughed.

He walked right over to me and spat at me, “Just because you got lucky the other day doesn’t mean that you’re strong. Even if you got your hair-cut you’re still a little girl.”

“Then that means you three are so weak that you got beaten up by a little girl,” I said.

The other two stood up and walked over to join Davin. Davin grabbed my shirt and pushed me backward into a wall.

“What did you say you little dweeb!?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Cliff said, “If you don’t shut your mouth then I’m going to crush you!”

“That’s right!” Jarrod said, “Cliff is going to sit on you!”

“Yeah, I’m going to sit on you,” Cliff said.

I started walking away and said away from the direction of the camera, loudly enough for them to hear me, but not loud enough for the camera.

“Get away from me,” I said, “I don’t want to be seen hanging around with a bunch of kids like you who get beat up by little girls.”

I don’t know whether I should have turned to face them. They say ignorance is bliss but as I was walking away it was hard not to brace for the impact. I could hear the footsteps running up behind me and then felt the hands push my back. I toppled forward into the ground and rolled a few meters. When I looked up, I saw the three boys walking towards me.

“Don’t hit me!” I yelled.

I knew that wouldn’t stop them. I just wanted to add it for the camera. The first kick came to my stomach. Davin without missing a step kept walking and kicked me as hard as he could. I made sure to breath out before his foot impacted so that I wouldn’t be winded. I raised one hand to cover my face and lowered the other hand to cover my testicles. One kick. Two kicks.

“NO!” I yelled, “Stop hitting me!”

They took turns kicking me a few times each as hard as they could. As I suspected, Cliff had the kicks that hurt the most. There was a lot of weight behind his kicks. I wondered what his parents must feed him. Probably fast food every night and chocolate cereal every morning. How he made his way to be 3rd popular guy in the school was beyond me. I’m sure Travis would have seen how it all played out. These guys weren’t even really that popular I guess, they were just bullies. So, he was bully number three because they must have gained their status by beating everyone else up. They probably beat Travis up a lot.

After about a minute of them taking turns kicking me, Davin knelt down and spat in my face.

“Just because you’re hanging out with Laura now doesn’t make you special, you dweeb!” he said, “You’re still just a weak little girl who cries out when we hit you.”

I waited until they walked away and sat up. It was time to put on a little act for the camera. I pretended to sob and started rubbing my eyes. After a moment I stood up and pretended to limp away from the basketball court holding my stomach and my face. None their kicks hit my face, but a few did still land in my stomach quite hard. When I was sure I was out of view from the camera I stood up straight. Laura came around the corner a few moments later.

“Oh no, Travis I forgot to hit record!” she said.

I turned to her in shock, “Are you freaking kidding me!?”

She giggled and held her stomach for a bit, “Yep, I’m kidding you. I got the whole thing. This is going to be great.”

I sighed a sigh of relief, “Damn it, don’t scare me like that. I thought I just got beaten up for no reason.”

“Yeah, that looked intense!” she said, “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I said, “But pain is pain is pain, I’ll get over it. Now we just have to wait for the bruises to show up in a few hours.”

“Your face doesn’t look too red,” she said, “You were holding you face when you walked away.”

“Yep,” I said, “I did that for the camera, but I am going to need face bruises so that brings me to this uncomfortable point in time.”

Laura looked at me inquisitively as I raised my fist and punched my self as hard as I could in the face. It hurt for a bit. I pushed my middle knuckle forward so that the impact would definitely leave a bruise.

“Oh my god!” she said, “I didn’t know you were going to do that! This is stupid.”

“I was covering my face so I’m going to need a few face bruises for when we take the photos,” I said.

I raised my hand again and Laura grabbed a hold of it, staring intently into my eyes.

“Wait, before you do,” she said, “Can I slap you?”

“What?” I asked.

“You heard, let me do it. I think it would be fun. I’ve never hit anyone before,” she said.

“You are one sick and twisted person,” I joked, “but sure, I guess as long as it’s you and not them. I know I can trust you.”

She raised her arm and opened her hand. Moving back and forth a few times to practice her swing.

“Can you stop taunting me and just hit me already!?” I asked.

With that, she swung her hand back and bought it back around with a full swing. Her hand made contact with my face and then slid off in front of it. I waited for the pain.

“That was weak!” I said.

“Hey, I tried okay, I told you I’ve never hit anyone before!” she said.

We both sat there laughing for a bit and then I pulled my fist up and went for another punch into my own face, again making sure that it would leave a bruise. It was good being in the body of a child, I’d be able to use my full force and still not break any bones in my face.

After school, Laura took a few photos of my stomach and my face where the bruises had already formed.

“Hey,” she said, “Do you want to come over to my house and we can mess around with the footage for a bit before we send it to the media?” she asked.

I shook my head, “No, not tonight, I’ll have to ask my mum before I go over to someone’s house,” I said, “But hopefully I can make it over tomorrow night!”
for visiting.

“Okay!” she said enthusiastically, “I’ll tell my dad and you can come over tomorrow night. Maybe even stay for dinner!”

We said our goodbyes, and both went our separate ways. She hopped into her mother’s old car, although by today’s standards, it would probably be considered a very new car. It’s actually on the top end range of cars at the moment. Her parents must have a bit of money behind them.

* * * * *

My mother was only out of her room for a little bit when I got home. I tried to hide my bruises, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was too busy cleaning the house over and over again. Now that she wasn’t in a state of alcoholism most of the time, she didn’t know what to do with herself. We hadn’t talked much since that morning the other day. Right before my father would get home, she would confine herself to their room until dinner, eat dinner and then go back to bed. My father wouldn’t complain much because the house was always clean.

“It’s about time she stopped being so useless,” he joked to June one time. She forced a peal of small laughter knowing that it was supposed to be a joke, and she didn’t want to not laugh at one of his jokes.

It was hard to listen to him speak but I was already planning on how to make things work. He was going on a camping trip next weekend and that was when I was planning to get my mother and June to pack all of our stuff and get out of the house. It was 2002 so the government should still have plenty of available commission houses. That wouldn’t change for another 5 years.

I still had a week to make my plans for that one, for now though, it was important to focus on the more imminent plans. Getting the media to publish stories about how our school had an ineffective anti-bullying policy. I was about to make my first big change to the past, hopefully, one of many.

As I lay down in bed that night, I went to sleep daydreaming about all of the big changes I was going to make in this world.