Friday, September 5, 2008

Henry's Batman

Prologue:

“Henry Milo. Can I see you for a minute?” asked my English teacher, Mrs. Cobalt, as I walked out of her class. I turned, annoyed, and walked back towards her desk.

“Yes?” I asked as politely as possible.

“I think you should take a look at these grades.” She said holding out a grade book to me. “You’re failing.” She said sternly. I looked and true enough right there on the paper next to my name was a big fat F. “Now there are many things you can do to raise this grade, like extra credit. How would you like that?” I was barely listening, lost in my own little world about how I could be failing, but replied anyway.

“That’d be great I guess… if I’m failing.”

“Ok. I’ll find something for you and let you know.” She said hurriedly. I didn’t answer. I just walked out of the room.

I didn’t care about English, that’s why I didn’t do the work, and therefore, that’s why I was failing. Mrs. Cobalt pissed me off. She was one of those English teachers with a high pitched, smarter then you voice, and I always felt like she judged me and looked at me weird. “How would Batman deal with this?” I thought to myself as I walked down the hall away from her room. “Well first of all Batman wouldn’t even have to worry about failing, because Batman would actually care and work hard in school, like he did when training to join The League of Shadows.” I continued on with this line of thought and came to the conclusion that Batman would take whatever punishment was given to him and would do all the extra credit he could and help out and raise the grade so he wouldn’t get grounded for the rest of eternity.

Chapter 1: Batman’s Extra Credit

I woke slowly and rolled over not wanting to get up. I rubbed my eyes and looked for the comic book, lost somewhere in my bed that I had been reading when I’d fallen asleep. I rustled around the covers and couldn’t find it. I groaned as I leaned over the edge of my bed to look for it on the ground. I found it half way under the bed the front pages all crumpled from falling and sitting like that all night. I smoothed out Batman’s face on the front cover and returned it to its hiding spot under the mattress. I flopped myself back down on my pillow and rolled over putting my face in the pillow smelling the sweet smell of the laundry detergent. Then the phone rang; the sharp ears buzzing, jolting, clang of that phone. I groaned and waited for someone else in the house to pick it up. But no one did. So I pulled myself out of the soft comfortable solitude of my sheets, out of my room, and down the hall to where the phone hung awkwardly and sudden on the wall. I picked it up and a rather high pitched voice that I knew all too well from the lectures at school said, “Hello?”

“Hello.” I replied halfheartedly.

“Is this Henry?” The voiced asked.

“Why yes it is.” I said almost sarcastically.

“This is Mrs. Cobalt, your English teacher; sorry for calling so early. But, I have an extra credit assignment for you.” I think she expected some kind of response from me, but I gave none, so she continued. “There’s a nine-year-old boy who needs a tutor. And I assigned you to be it. It’s a perfect chance to pick up your grade in my class. His name is Kevin Angeleno, and you are to meet him today in two PM at the library. Is that ok for you?” I wanted to groan. I didn’t want to have to baby sit some stupid little kid to raise my stupid failing English grade.

“Sure.” I said trying not to sound too annoyed.

“Great! Thank you so much Henry. I’ll be so proud of you if you do well on this.” And then there was a click and nothing as she hung up the phone before I could even give a response.

This time I did groan as I walked back to my room got back into my warm smooth bed, and pulled the covers way up over my head. Who cared about some kid who wasn’t doing well in school? He was probably some stuck up little brat who just wouldn’t work. He’d be one of those kids who dressed like they were all ghetto and had gelled up hair. And he’d probably look at me and call me a nerd, which was probably what I hated the most.

I pulled out the Batman comic from under my mattress because I needed something to calm my nerves. I lay back in bed and opened it to the page I had been on last night before I’d dozed off. Batman was saving people from a terrorist attack, and Cat Woman and Stephanie, the girl who had tried out to be Robin, were overlooking a secret villain meeting that was going terribly airy. This meeting would lead up to the outbreak of gang battles throughout Gotham city that would push Batman to the edge making him admit he needed backup. Just like my meeting with Mrs. Cobalt and the way everything would soon blow up in my face.

I got up an hour later, the sun was peaking in around the edges of the shades and the room was starting to get light. I walked out past the phone that hung awkwardly on the wall and down the tight old stairs the creaked every other step, and into the small custard yellow kitchen where my mother was slaving over the hot stove. My mother was one of my best friends. She was an amazing woman who took care of me, the youngest, my older brother who was about to leave for college and my older sister who had to be a pain in the butt all the time, mostly without the help of my father who worked a lot but loved his family. I was the baby of the family physically, but not mentally. I had always been more mature than my adopted older sister and I was always on the same page as my immensely smart child prodigy of an older brother.

We adopted my sister when she was four. I was two at the time and don’t remember much of it. But I do know that all my mother wanted was a little girl and when she didn’t have one, she adopted one. But what she didn’t know was as soon as my sister, Leslie, turned 12 she would become a raging ball of hatred that would push my mother away. And that’s where I came in, her favorite child and her baby boy once again.

I walked over to my mother and kissed her on the cheek. She turned and smiled sweetly at me and went back to the bacon she was cooking. I sat down at the round five person table and looked down at the worn and knolled wood. I ran my fingers over a big brown swirl and tried to figure out how to tell my mother that I was failing.

“Hey mom….” I stared and trailed off, losing hope.

“Yes Henry?” She could tell there was something I didn’t want to tell her, so I just spit out the words as fast as I could and then ducked for cover.

“Mom I’m failing.” I said in an extremely hurried voice. Then I put my head down on the table and covered it with my arms, as if a giant bomb was about to be dropped on my head. There was a long pause and I could tell it was one of those disappointed pauses as she thought of something to say.

“What class?” She finally asked.

“English,” I said shortly.

“English? How hard could English possibly be? You speak the language don’t you?” She was angry, and I was ashamed that I had let her down.

“Yes but….” I trailed off because I didn’t really have a reason for failing English. It was an easy class I just didn’t like it, or the teacher.

“Too many comic books,” She went on. I ignored this completely, and knew that wasn’t the answer and hated that she would suggest that.

“Well you see there’s this tutoring thing that I have to do for extra credit. And my teacher said that if I do well that I could bring my grade up to at least a C. And if I start working in there too I could get it up to at least a B.” I waited for my mother’s response which she didn’t give for a long time.

“I’m very disappointed Henry. You do know that, right?”

“Yes.” I said and hung my head.

“Well you have to work hard on this then. Who are you tutoring?”

“Some nine-year-old kid named Kevin Angeleno. He’s probably just gona be some stuck up little brat who just doesn’t feel like working, and will hate me, and not listen, and think I’m a nerd.”

“Well Henry you shouldn’t judge this boy before you meet him.” She says in response to that. She always says things like this as if they’re going to make me a better person. I didn’t answer her just kind of rolled my eyes. I went to the fridge and pulled out a piece of fruit which I took back up to my room grumbling thanks to my mother as I went.

I lay in bed eating my fruit and reading Batman for a while until I finally forced myself to get up, get dressed, and go see this stupid little kid to make him a smart little kid.

Chapter 2: Batman in the Library

I arrived at the library five minutes early and chained my bike up to the bike rack. Then I walked into the cool, quiet, carpeted library through the automatic sliding doors. I sat at one of the tan square tables with their small chairs and slotted backs. Only a few minutes later a small boy dressed up in a Batman costume walked through the same double sliding glass doors. He was with a tall stern looking man with graying hair and a shapely face. The man led the boy over to where I sat.

“Are you Henry Milo?” Asked the man with the sharp face, his voice was as stern as his face.

“Yes.” I stammered, intimidated.

“Good. He’s your problem now. Have fun with Batman.” He said the word “Batman” mockingly and looked down at the little boy who didn’t seem to be listening to a word his father said. The boy’s father sniggered, turned, and walked away leaving me with the boy in the Batman costume who I secretly envied.

The boy looked at me. He seemed like a quiet kid. His Batman costume had a rippled chest and I tried to ignore how much I longed to be able to dress like that. We sat there in silence for a few minutes. The young boy seemed to go from examining me, to looking down at his boot clad feet pretending he wasn’t there.

“Do you have your books?” I finally asked. We’d been sitting there in silence for what seemed like hours but were really only about five minutes. The boy took a while to answer but finally said,

“I don’t like school. I like Batman! I am Batman!” I recoiled a little bit at his reaction and tried not to laugh.

“Well… well… you have to study for school.”

“Why would I do that?” Asked the boy in a high pitched voice as if I’d asked him the most unbelievable question he’d ever heard, and wondering how I could ever possibly think he would want to study.

“Well because that’s what you’re supposed to do! Come on, please.” I was frustrated and almost pleading with him. How was I ever going to pass English?! This was impossible the kid wouldn’t work. But I did admire him for his Batman taste.

“I’ll read Batman with you! Do you like Batman?” He asked changing the subject quickly. I hesitated for a moment and didn’t want to answer the Batman question.

“No.” I lied, “You have to read this book for your English class. Look it’s a book about a dog, how bad can it be?” I tried coaxing him into reading it.

“No! It’s not Batman! I don’t read anything unless it’s Batman!” The little boy was yelling now and I couldn’t make him stop.

“Whoa! Ok, ok.” I said pleading with my hands putting them out in front of me trying to get him to stop yelling. “Look, if Batman really had to he’d read the book for school and get it done with so he could go save the world.” I finally insisted in a last hope to get him to read the stupid book. He looked like he was considering it for a second.

“But Batman doesn’t have to read a book about a stupid dog in a supermarket. All he has to do is save Gotham.” He persisted, doubting my Batman knowledge which angered me.

“Well he did when he was your age! Just read it. Batman would be proud” I finished, hoping he would take my lead. He sat in silence for a minute thinking the idea over.

“Ok. I’ll read the book if that’s what Batman would do.” He finally said, giving in. A smile cracked over my face at my good work on getting him to read. I wondered if the kid could read, though he must’ve read the Batman comics I guessed. I opened the book to the first page, and set it down in front of him telling him to read it out loud to me. And I was impressed; he whizzed through the book with excellent speed and had gotten through the sixth chapter in just about an hour.

“Wow.” I said when he was done. “Good job kid.” I added halfheartedly. The little boy smiled up at me; I ignored the smile, and the Batman costume.

“Can we read Batman next time?” He asked hopefully.

“Umm… well I don’t know. You need to finish this book and you’re so far behind… so no.” I said ending sternly, not letting the cute little kid in the Batman costume get to me. His face fell and I felt bad for a minute, but then I reminded myself I was dealing with some random nine-year-old kid and it was his happiness or my grades.

The boy’s father walked back in through the sliding glass doors and over to the table where we sat. “Finally, I get to get away from this kid and get my head back.” I thought to myself as the stern looking man walked towards us.

“Did Batman do ok today?” He asked in the same mocking voice. I glared up at his father.

“Actually, he did. He even read almost half of his book.” I said snidely back to him. He didn’t look too happy and I thought he might say something like, “Don’t disrespect me boy!” or “You’re in trouble now kid!” but he didn’t. He just grabbed the kid by the arm, which looked like it hurt, and wheeled him around towards the door.

“Come on Kevin, you little brat, let’s go.” He said sternly as he pushed him towards the exit.

“Bye Henry.” The boy squeaked, turning around to me before he was pushed awkwardly out the door. I suddenly felt sorry for the little boy and I tried to hide it, but I wanted to cry. I swallowed all the feelings I felt for him and walked out the sliding doors myself. I unchained my bike from the rack and wheeled it away from the library, the library that I would have to go back to again later that week to tutor the little boy so he could get away from his evil father. And once again I would have to feel no feelings for the kid, again. No thought of Batman, and no caring for the poor little kid who was helping me raise my nice, failing, English grade.

Chapter 3: Embarrassed by Batman?

I got home about a quarter to three and walked back into the kitchen where I knew my mother would be cleaning up the lunch mess. She was washing dishes in the soap filled sink yellow gloves pulled up to her elbows, the hot foamy water almost pouring out the front of the basin. I walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek like I had that morning, and every other morning before that.

“Hi Henry, how was your tutoring session?” She asked me in a “how was your day?” kind of voice.

“Well I got the kid to read like half of his book.” I replied, not giving her any of the emotional details about the boy, if there were any.

“And it probably wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, now was it?” She asked in her favorite motherly voice.

“No.” I said shortly. I wanted to tell her how the kid dressed like Batman and how awful his father was to him and how much I actually did care about the little boy; but I couldn’t, she would have to work it out of my.

“See. I told you not to judge him. So tell me, what was he like?”

“He was… well… he was dressed up in a Batman costume and he was really an ok kid.” A smile broke over her face and she seemed pleased that the boy was maybe a bit like me and maybe we would be able to relate and maybe he could get me out of this hole I seemed to be stuck in, but I doubted that.

“Well now that’s very nice. Maybe you boys will get along after all.” She said smiling widely.

“Yah, maybe,” I said dryly.

“Well, you like Batman, and apparently so does this little boy. And maybe if he doesn’t want to work you could use some of your Batman knowledge to help him work.” She tried to make the statement as inoffensive as possible and I wanted to thank her for that, but didn’t.

“But Mom, you don’t get it. Batman’s not like the coolest thing around.”

“So what? He’s a nine-year-old boy, he won’t mind if you’re not the coolest kid on the block.”

“Yeah but… just… no. I can’t Batman’s like my secret thing and it’s just too embarrassing.” I was ashamed of having to admit how embarrassed I was of Batman and I knew he’d be very disappointed in me if he had ever heard that. My mother rolled her eyes, not understanding where I was coming from at all. I just walked out of the kitchen and back up to my room to the only place where I could just shut the door and think for myself.

The next day was Monday. Monday mornings are probably the worst thing in the whole entire world and I hate them so much. I woke up just on time and got slowly out of bed grumbling and groaning as I went not looking forward to my second period English class that I also hated. I got slowly dressed in blue jeans, a tee shirt, and sneakers the same outfit as most days. I looked at myself in the mirror in the bathroom and rumpled my hair that was sticking up in some places and lying flat in others. I brushed my teeth with the blue minty tooth paste I always used and walked down to the kitchen where my mother was serving my sister a bowl of cereal. I could hear my brother Tony yelling from the front hall and could hear the jangle of his keys as he swung them around his fingers.

“You’d better get going, he’s already yelling about your sister being too slow and how he has a math test first period.” My mother said to me when I entered the kitchen. I nodded in acknowledgement of her and grabbed a cereal bar and quickly told Leslie that “Tony would leave her here and then she would have a problem”.

Tony and I got in the car and waited for my sister who climbed in shortly after me grumbling about getting the back seat. We sped off in Tony’s jeep towards the school. Leslie leaned over the seat and asked Tony in a winy voice if she could drive home which he quickly turned down saying that she could drive next year when he was gone. I barely listened to their conversation lost in my own world about English class and how much I didn’t want to see Mrs. Cobalt along with a swirl of Batman facts.

First period went by quickly. It was an ok class, History. I didn’t mind history too much. One of my friends was in the class. We mostly sit in the back and just talk and write on each other’s papers. It’s a very uneventful class. But then I had dreaded English. And if I wanted to actually pass that class I would have to work hard and pay attention. We were reading a book called Fallen Angels. It was a book about the Viet Nam War and I didn’t find it very interesting. I’d already finished the book just to get it over with when she’d first handed it out. But then I just didn’t do any of the work for it. The class rolled by pretty fast. I even raised my hand to answer a few questions which seemed to please Mrs. Cobalt. I walked up to her desk after class to tell her about the tutoring session with Kevin, the little kid in the Batman costume.

“Hello Henry.” She said sounding surprised when I walked up to her desk. “What can I do for you?” She asked. I almost raised my eyebrows and asked if she’d even remembered giving me the tutoring assignment, but resisted the urge.

“Well, I thought you might want to ask me about the extra credit assignment.” I said prompting her to ask me so that I could leave.

“Oh, yes. How’d it go?” She asked, her high voice ringing in my ears.

“Good actually, umm… I got him to read the first half of his book.” I tried not to sound too much like a suck up brat because I realized I was suddenly sounding like one. She smiled and I could tell she was proud of me. Proud, eww. Proud was the last thing I wanted Mrs. Cobalt to be of me.

“Good job Henry. Your next tutoring session will be on Wednesday, every Wednesday and Sunday for the next five weeks.” She said ending the conversation as if she too wanted to get away from me. I didn’t answer just followed her lead and walked out of the room, kind of raising my eyebrows as I went.

As I was walking out of the room a girl was walking in for her next class. She was the most beautiful girl in the world. Her name was Natalie Vegea and she was perfect. She was what some called a drama geek. But in her group she was a queen. She got all the lead roles in the plays and every girl in drama wanted to be her. I stumbled over my feet as I walked by her and almost fell, bumping into her. She grabbed me by the arm with hands that were stronger then it seemed they should be and put me back on my feet.

“Careful,” She said to me, and for a second I thought she had noticed me. We had four classes together and she never noticed me.

“Thanks,” I stammered. But she was already gone talking with her friends. For a second she had noticed me, for a second I was a living, breathing human being to her. How could I make that second come back?

“Batman would know what to do. Batman wouldn’t have to worry about not getting a girl to notice him. Everyone noticed him, and everyone loved him. I mean he was like The Batman! He was big, and strong, and tough, and all the girls probably loved him. He was looked up to; no one looked up to me. I barely had any friends. I was the loser who read Batman comics and was failing English. So how could Batman make her notice me? He probably couldn’t. She wouldn’t like Batman. How could she? If she ever knew that I liked Batman I would be even more invisible to her then ever. Or would I? If she thought I was a loser at least she would notice me. If she thought I was completely weird; at least I would be there to her. No that was a crazy idea. Why would I want to make the girl I loved think I was a freak?” I was confused. I didn’t understand how I could get her to see me. I wanted to be her friend, I wanted to know her, if only just to know her and not be invisible to her. But how?

Chapter 4: Killing in Gotham City

Tuesday was uneventful. Wake up, listen to Tony and Leslie fight, go to class, see Natalie, go home, eat, and read Batman. And that was about it. Then Wednesday came and I had to tutor Kevin again. I didn’t really want to see Kevin, the boy in the Batman costume, and try to suppress the pity I felt for him. I was jealous of him for being able to show how much he loved Batman where as I always felt I had to hide it.

I was sitting in English and Mrs. Cobalt had just asked the class if anyone knew anything about The Odyssey. I personally had read it when I was in fifth grade because I had been interested in Greek mythology, it wasn’t a bad book. Mrs. Cobalt waited, she was getting anxious.

“Anyone? Anyone know anything at all?” She was asking. I raised my hand slowly. She looked at me, almost in disbelief. “You better not be asking to go to the bathroom.” She said when she called on me.

“Umm… no… The Odyssey is about an epic battle where Odysseus, the main character, is lost at sea and trying to get home but he keeps running into all these obstacles, and then when he finally gets home he has to fight off all these suitors who want to marry his wife, and wins.” I said slowly but surely. Mrs. Cobalt just stared at me in disbelief for a few seconds, amazed that I’d answered the question correctly.

“That’s exactly right Henry. Yes Odysseus is fighting to get home after the Trojan War, and then has to fight off a group of men who want to marry his wife, with the help of his son.” She says summarizing what I had just said. The bell rang then and everyone got up to leave and started filing out the door.

“Good job today Henry.” Mrs. Cobalt said as she walked by my desk as I packed up. I don’t answer just finish packing up and got out of the class as quickly as possible. I didn’t see Natalie in the hallway outside of her room and that depressed me. I liked seeing her during the day, she was always bright and happy and surrounded by a bunch of friends not noticing me. I wished for once she would notice me, or say hi to me, or just look in my direction, but she never did.

I thought about how well I’d done in Mrs. Cobalt’s class today and how she’d complimented me. “Maybe she didn’t hate me, maybe she’d just giving up on me. I knew I was smart, I always had been. Just a lot of the time I just didn’t care enough to do the work. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life which made me care about school even less. Who knew, maybe this whole tutoring thing would help me.” But then I stopped and wanted to kick myself. “What was I thinking?! I was acting like a suck up little girl. Tutoring some annoying little kid wasn’t changing me at all apart from maybe making me more of a baby.”

By the end of the day I was worn out. I hadn’t seen Natalie all day, she hadn’t been in any of her classes, and I had to keep trying to work hard and pay attention in all of my classes. And now I had to go be a teacher, the last thing I wanted to be, for a nine-year-old kid who probably didn’t even care if I helped him in school or not. I went home quickly with Tony and Leslie just to drop off my books, get my bike, and say hi to my mother and then left trying not to be too early to the tutoring session. I peddled up to the brick library about five minutes early like I had the Sunday before. I got off my bike and chained it up to the bike rack, feeling the rapidity of it. And then I walked sluggishly into the air conditioned, quieter than real life lobby of the library. I walked in past the shelves of children’s books and over to the table where I’d sat the time before. To my surprise Kevin was already sitting at the table, this time with out the Batman costume. He was dressed similarly to me, worn out sneakers, blue jeans, and a Batman tee shirt. I envied the tee shirt too and wanted one like it.

“Why are you here so early?” I asked protectively of the little boy.

“My dad said that he wouldn’t drive me. So I had to walk here from school.” The kid seemed so tiny, and he must have been small for his age, but at that point there was something about him that seemed extra small, maybe just in the way he had said the statement. The school was about ¾ of a mile away and it must have been a long walk for him. I couldn’t believe the boy’s menace of a father wouldn’t even drive his own son to a tutoring session so he could learn!

“Oh.” I replied trying not to let on that I cared. “Well we should get started. You remember where we left off last week, right?”

“Yah, they went to that old ladies house that they thought was the witch and she talked about the melancholy.” And his face seemed to lighten up a bit. And I was surprised that de didn’t even persist about not wanting to work. Maybe I really had gotten to him last time about working and how Batman would do it too if he had to.

“Right, so why don’t we start from there and maybe you could do some of the worksheets today.” I placed the book open in front of him and had him read it out loud to me again. And again he read it very well. I stopped him about 30 pages from the end and said that that part was for next time. Then I had him start working on all the many worksheets he hadn’t done, with questions about the book. At first he persisted. Asking why he couldn’t just read Batman, and how he’d thought that if he did so well on the stupid dog book he could read Batman, and how unfair it was. I tried to console him, saying that he really did have to read the book and do the worksheets. He complained and finally I gave in. We only had about 10 minutes left and I decided to end it early.

“That’s enough for today.” I said after 10 minutes of his complaining about how unfair it was. “Is your dad coming to get you?” I asked him, knowing the answer was probably no.

“No.” He said and he looked small again and I wanted to put my arms around him and comfort him but wouldn’t dare do that. “He says that it’s my fault that I didn’t do the work in school so he shouldn’t have to waste his time on me.” I wanted to cry. What an awful man his father was. I was glad my father wasn’t like that, and that every chance he got he came home to be with his family that he loved. I debated whether of not I should walk him home. I decided that he’d be fine and started leaving with a quick “ok bye”. I was half way out the door when my conscience got a hold of me and I turned around and walked back over to the table and said, “Ok come on, I’ll walk you home.

I wheeled my bike along side of me as he walked on the sidewalk oh the street.

“What’s your family like?” Asked the little boy suddenly; I thought of not responding but decided that I probably should.

“Well, I have a brother, his name is Tony. And I have an adopted sister, her name is Leslie. And then you’ve got my mom who’s really nice, and my dad who’s in New York for work a lot but always tries to come home.” I hoped this wouldn’t make him feel bad since his dad was so awful to him. “What about you?” I asked because I really did want to know.

“It’s just me and my dad.” He said almost sadly. I was shocked, I felt really bad and didn’t want to ask him to continue but he did anyway. “My mom was killed eight months ago. She was trying to stop a mugging. I think that’s why my dad hates me so much, I remind him of her too much.” I wanted to cry. How could this poor little boy be so awfully jaded to the world because of one awful man? “He’s putting me up for foster care. He hates me.” Kevin finished. He seemed smaller then ever when he said this and I just wanted to drop to my knees and comfort him like you do when a little kid falls down.

“No, he probably doesn’t hate you. He’s probably just sad.” I say trying to comfort him. By then we’d reached Kevin’s house and had turned into the driveway. He turned around to look at me with his sad little eyes and his Batman tee shirt.

“No Henry, he hates me.” He said in the smallest, saddest little voice ever and then he turned back around and walked into the house with out another world. I was about to cry. The tears were starting to fill my eyes so suddenly and I was trying so hard to push them away, but they wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t believe that poor, cute, little, Batman loving kid had to go through that every day of his life. I felt awful. I just wanted to go home and tell my mother about the whole story but I knew that I couldn’t because it wasn’t my business, and it wasn’t my place. But I wanted to help him. I had to make this tutoring thing last, I had to connect with him. I had to tell him about Batman. I sighed, this was my biggest secret in the world and I was telling it to a nine-year-old.

I looked back at the house; it was small and brown and seemed to be falling apart. It had little white shutters that were partially falling off their hinges and a stone wall with weeds poking out of small holes. I sighed again and turned around, feeling bad for the kid. I had to find some way to help him, make him happier, give him a family, give him a chance, and give him a life.

Chapter 5: Noticing Batman

I wheeled my bike away from the broken house and hopped on at the corner. I was riding slowly home thinking about Kevin and his life.

How do I impact people?” I thought abruptly. “Like Kevin. Do I impact him? No. I was just some Batman loving guy who was tutoring him to raise my English grade. He probably didn’t care about me. But maybe somehow I could impact his life. Did I already impact his life in the three days I’d known him? Or was I just another mean grown-up who hated him?”

It only took me about 17 minutes to get home on my bike. I wheeled the bike into the garage next to Tony’s red jeep and then walked into the house through the outside garage door. My mother was sitting at the worn kitchen table reading The New York Times like she did every evening right after the snack rush and before the dinner rush. She looked up at me when I entered and could tell that something was wrong.

“You ok Hun?” She asked partially getting up from the table. “You’re home later then I expected.”

“I had to walk Kevin home.” I said in a small voice. I didn’t want to tell her about Kevin and his problems because it wasn’t my business and I wasn’t supposed to care.

“Well Henry there must be something wrong, you look like someone’s died.” My mother said coming over to me and putting her arm around me.

“Mom it’s nothing. I just… it’s nothing.” I said faltering, shrugging off my mothers arm. What I really wanted to say was, “Yes mom someone had died, Kevin’s mom. And now his father’s taking it out on him. And oh mom, I don’t know what to do, I have to do something!” But I couldn’t so I pushed her away. She seemed a little taken a back by my sudden shortness with her.

“It’s fine mommy, don’t worry about it.” I added to reassure her but I could tell she didn’t believe it at all, but I couldn’t tell her about Kevin’s business. I sighed and retreated back to my room to do homework. If I was going to pass any of my classes I was going to have to work.

I sat at the small desk in my room, a History notebook spread in front of me. We were assigned a project on the American Revolution and we were supposed to research one of the events that led up to the war and write a paper on that. My topic was the Boston Tea Party. “What was there to know about that? Some American guys dressed up like Indians, no Henry not Batman,” I told myself getting off topic shortly, “and dumped a load of tea off some British ships. Hmm… I wonder if that would impress Natalie, open rebellion. No Henry, we’re not talking about Natalie,” I told myself, Boston. Tea. Party. Remember? Boston. Tea. Party.” My brain was drifting off away from the American Revolution and onto Natalie and how much I wanted her to notice me. “Well I could do something crazy like stand up and start singing to her in the middle of class; that should get her attention. No, too weird. I could rent a plain and have it write Natalie look at me in the sky. No, too expensive. I could just say hi to her and start a conversation. Yes! That could work! That could definitely work. I’d just have to say hi. Maybe ask about drama, maybe even ask about Batman! No not Batman, then she’ll think I’m weird. I could tell her about Kevin! All girls like cute little kids, right?” I was so excited about my new idea to talk to Natalie. I was a little scared to actually talk to her, but I would be talking to Natalie Vegea, the girl of my dreams. And she would be talking back, and she would notice me, she would have to! I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before and I was overjoyed.

I did a little work on the History project almost twitching at the thought of talking to Natalie tomorrow, and then got into bed. I hadn’t eaten dinner because I wasn’t hungry even though my mom had called me down about 10 times I just told her I didn’t want to eat. I lay back in bed, Batman comic open on my chest my eyes not focused on it. I was thinking about Natalie and what if we could actually be friends. But then my mind slid to my mother, my wonderful mother who had cancer. She had been diagnosed about a year ago and was just ending chemo. She’d gone through the whole losing her hair and everything but now it was growing back and she was getting her strength back. I was so scared for, at times I thought maybe even more scared for her then she was. What would happen if something did happen, if the worst happened? My father was never home to take care of us, and I didn’t think I could live with out my mother.

I fell asleep dwelling on the awful thought, the Batman comic still open on my chest. I dreamed of Natalie and my mother and seeing how happy she would be if she ever met her. And I dreamed of Kevin and him getting away from his awful home and coming to live with us.