Chapter 71

During the weekend, Gabe somehow managed to discover that the feared bully of Sheldon was Bobbie Sparks, the six-year-old girl who lived next door to the Coopers.

"Bobbie Sparks? You mean Billy?" When I got the information, I spoke with Mr. Cooper, who asked me incredulously.

"No, Bobbie Sparks," I repeated. It was definitely strange that a ten-year-old boy was being bullied by a six-year-old girl.

"Okay..." Mr. Cooper slowly said, nodding as he seemingly stared into nothingness, "thanks." Coming back to the present, Mr. Cooper added as he entered his house, closing the door behind him.

"You're welcome," I replied, once again speaking to a closed door in front of my face.

"Come on, Gabe, let's go get your things," I said to Gabe, who was waiting on the sidewalk as I walked away from the Coopers' door.

"Finally," my brother exclaimed excitedly, practically running to 'Debbie.'

The days passed, and the Coopers and the Sparks had some issues. According to Mom, who spoke with both women, it all stemmed from the 'absurd' idea that a six-year-old girl would bully a boy Sheldon's age.

Since I had taken care of the Sparks' children a few times in the past, I knew the girl, who was usually extremely sweet when dealing with me, so I completely understood the absurdity of the situation. But Gabe was very sure of his information.

At school, the interactions among my friends had changed almost imperceptibly. Alan was still the same, always calm and quiet, but from what I could see, he was becoming more and more exhausted each day. David and Georgie hadn't changed much, still arguing with each other, entertained by whatever the topic of the moment was.

Brock was the one who worried me. As the days went by, his usually cheerful demeanor slowly turned more melancholic. Suddenly, he started leaving his lunch unfinished and became less interested in conversations. In class, he completely stopped turning in homework, and during practice, he always seemed distracted, earning repeated reprimands from the coaches. Something was definitely wrong.

"Brock, what are you waiting for? Let's hit the showers," I said at the end of the last practice of the week. Everyone had left under Coach Cooper's orders to the showers, leaving Brock and me behind.

"I'll clean up when I get home," my friend said, forcing a smile as he put his things in his locker.

"What? Why?" I asked, intrigued.

"No reason, I just want to," Brock replied evasively, obviously lying.

"Is something wrong?" I asked seriously, unable to hold back any longer.

"What? No, why would something be wrong?" Brock asked sarcastically, snorting as if the idea was ridiculous. "Everything's fine, not as fine as you, obviously, but it's fine, okay?" he added defensively.

"Okay," I quickly said, regretting trying to push him. "You just need to know that I'm here, we're all here if you need anything," I added, watching my friend stand up.

"Yeah, sure," Brock said ironically, snorting as he quickly walked out of the locker room with his backpack.

"Something is definitely wrong," Alan suddenly said behind me.

"Yeah," I responded seriously, pretending that his sudden appearance hadn't scared me to death.

"Do you want me to find out what's going on?" Alan asked me slowly.

"No, I still want to give him time to come and talk about it," I replied. "At least a few more days. After that, I'll make sure to force him to talk," I added, annoyed.

Whatever problems my friends have, I would like them to feel confident that they could talk to me about them, at least until I'm forced to intervene.

"Suit yourself," Alan said.

"How have you been?" I asked, changing the subject and raising one of my eyebrows. He also had some problem he wasn't talking to anyone about.

"Fine," my friend replied curtly as we walked to the showers.

"Sure," I murmured, slightly frustrated.

On Sunday, while Gabe and I were watching cartoons in the living room, there was a sudden and anxious knock on the front door. Nudging my brother with my elbow, I silently ordered him to go answer the door.

Obviously annoyed at being interrupted during his TV time, Gabe stood up and, keeping his attention on the cartoons, walked slowly to the door. "Who- ah, Mrs. Cooper," my brother said.

"Good morning, Gabe. Is your mom home?" Mrs. Cooper asked kindly, standing under the doorway and holding a box.

"I don't know," Gabe replied. "MOM, MRS. COOPER!" he yelled a moment later into the house, and as if his job was done, he ran back to the couch.

I smacked Gabe on the back of the head for his lack of manners. "Please come in, Mrs. Cooper. Good morning," I said as I stood up and walked towards the woman.

"Thank you very much, PJ," the woman said, smiling.

"Ah, Mary," at that moment, my mom said cheerfully as she walked from the hallway to her room.

"Amy," Mrs. Cooper greeted her with a smile and her usual slightly condescending tone. "I'm a bit worried," she added, placing her box on our table.

I know Mrs. Cooper well enough to know that when she wasn't worried, it was a special occasion.

When she opened the box she had brought with her, I saw that it was filled with comics and magazines. I sighed, looking at my brother, who was still watching TV, thinking about what was coming for him.

"Sheldon was reading this," Mrs. Cooper said, handing one of the comics from her box to my mom, clearly worried. "I know you're not very devout, and that's fine," she continued, placing one of her hands on my mom's shoulder, obviously not thinking the same thing she had just said, "but I think there are things that children shouldn't see, regardless of their religion."

"Oh..." Mom said slowly, nodding as she flipped through the comic's pages, obviously not buying into Mrs. Cooper's always-present religious/moralistic speech.

"I think you see what I mean—guns, people dying, and the backside of a blue man," Mrs. Cooper whispered, given that Gabe was nearby, although I was sure the boy wasn't paying attention. "I went to that irresponsible shopkeeper, and he didn't care about selling that kind of thing to kids."

Taking the comic from Mom's hands, I flipped through the pages of the comic I didn't recognize. I could see what Mrs. Cooper was referring to; this comic was a bit too adult for a ten-year-old.

"I don't know if Gabe reads this kind of stuff too, but I felt it was my duty as a good Christian to let you know," Mrs. Cooper said kindly, placing her hand on her chest.

"I'll look into it," Mom said seriously, nodding as she glanced at Gabe, who was still engrossed in the TV.

"I just hope he takes it better than Sheldon. Now he wants us to treat him like an adult," Mrs. Cooper said sarcastically, thus beginning a conversation with Mom.

Mom and Mrs. Cooper walked to the kitchen, maintaining a calm conversation about some gossip from another family on the street. Yeah, very Christian.

I sat down next to Gabe, amused by my brother's ignorance of what had just happened, and forced him into a hug.

I had read a large number of the comics Gabe owned. There were some mildly intense moments, like the death of a character or implications of sexual scenes, but other than that, all the comics my brother had, and the ones I made sure he bought, were mainly about superheroes fighting villains.

When Mrs. Cooper left that day, dragging Gabe along, who didn't understand what was happening, she began a hunt for inappropriate content. Surprisingly, she didn't find anything out of place.

"Fortunately, I thought something like this might happen. I hid all the good stuff a while ago," Gabe whispered to me, proud of himself.

Surprised by my brother's preventative skills, I decided to inspect those comics myself when I managed to find out where they were hidden.

The next day, for the first time since we arrived in Texas, the city's tornado sirens sounded loudly at the hospital.

"We have to take cover, kid," House said worriedly as he looked out the window in his clinic office at the hospital.

Surprised by the real emotion in House's words, I nodded. "Stay away from the window; we need to go to the hospital shelter," I said.

"What?" House exclaimed incredulously. "No, that's the first place they'll look," he continued.

"I don't understand," I said, confused.

"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the window. "It's all hands on deck," he said with disgust, "we need to hide before they send us to the emergency room to work," he finally explained, moving as if the idea gave him chills.

That was my bad. I was thinking House had normal emotions. It was obvious he didn't.

House and I 'took shelter' from the tornado winds in the morgue, the lowest floor of the hospital. "Everyone here is already dead; no one will come looking for us here," House said as he lay on one of the autopsy tables, reading a magazine with a small medical flashlight since the hospital was running on emergency lights.

"Why don't you want to help?" I asked, interested, even though it would be irresponsible for me to assist in the emergency room—I had no privileges of any kind.

"Because it's boring," House immediately replied, making me regret even asking. "There's nothing interesting,

 people bleeding with broken limbs, maybe a lucky impalement—that could be diagnosed and possibly treated by a veterinarian," he continued.

When the tornado alarms fell silent, I ignored House, who was now comfortably asleep on the special tables for draining bodies, and climbed to the hospital's main floor via the stairs.

Fortunately, aside from dozens of people flooding the hospital hallways, as they seemed to be using the building as a shelter, nothing more serious was happening. I didn't see any broken glass or anyone in need of help.

"PJ," in one of the hospital's hallways, my mom called out worriedly, carrying her purse. "Where were you? Why didn't you go to the shelter?" she asked as she quickly checked my face and arms.

"I'm fine. I was in a safe place," I quickly replied, avoiding telling her about my stay in the morgue.

"Good, we need to go home, the lines are down," adjusting her purse on her shoulder, Mom said, incredibly worried as she dragged me through the hospital.

Seeing how worried she was, I quickly followed her without bothering to stop for my things.

"We're going in my car," Mom ordered without any intention of arguing as she dragged me to her car. At least 'Debbie' was intact from what I could see—amazingly dirty with trash stuck to it by the water, but intact.

The road home was completely dirty, full of mud, branches, and the occasional fallen tree in the middle. Since it was the only road to the hospital, the fire department was working to remove the obstacles so that ambulances could pass.

"Everything is going to be fine," I said calmly, wanting not to worry my pregnant mother, hiding my own concerns as we saw more ambulances pass by.

"Yes, Teddy and Gabe were at home; your dad should have been there too," Mom said, breathing anxiously as she repeated herself several times while driving.

During the drive home, the only sound in the car was the radio with the report of what had happened. The tornado hadn't passed near our neighborhood, which at least calmed Mom down a bit. School had been canceled for the next few days until further notice, and all the churches had set up shelters in case you needed to spend the night there.

From a distance, our house, like the rest of the neighborhood, seemed intact; a couple of broken windows and some mess in the gardens were all that could be seen.

"Oh, your dad's truck," Mom said sadly, pointing to Bob's awful truck, which now had a branch sticking out of the windshield.

"At least he was home," I said, making Mom laugh despite the tears in her eyes, obviously from relief.

Everyone was fine; my siblings were inside the house, sitting on the couch doing nothing since the electricity still hadn't returned—it might not come back that day—and Bob was outside, looking to see if anyone needed help.

"It was awesome! I was watching TV when a message appeared, then the alarms went off, and Teddy was super scared," Gabe energetically explained to me.

"You were scared too," Teddy, who was in a hug with Mom, said angrily. "Dad had to pull you out from under the bed."

"That's not true," Gabe quickly told me, nervously.

"It's okay, buddy, I was scared too," I said calmly, hugging my brother's head.

"Really?" Gabe asked, incredulous.

"Yes, being scared is normal," I said, gently pushing the boy's head. "Mom, I'm going to see if Dad needs help," I added, hugging Teddy's head as she separated from Mom.

"Yes, I need to prepare the flashlights and candles before it gets dark," now much calmer, Mom quickly said as she stood up.

"Can I go too?" Gabe asked, running to my side.

"No," Mom immediately responded without even looking at Gabe.

"What? Why?" my brother asked, disappointed.

"It's dangerous out there; you could get hurt. Besides, because I said so," Mom responded seriously, with no intention of changing her mind.

"You heard her," I said, shaking Gabe's head, making the boy, still disappointed, lower his head. "Help Mom," I ordered my siblings before heading out.

Along with Mr. Cooper, Bob, and Georgie, we walked around the neighborhood looking to see if anyone needed help. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, fortunately, no one had suffered anything serious.

"Can I go check if Case is okay? He lives in his trailer," I asked Bob as we walked back home.

"That's right," Bob said, suddenly remembering about my martial arts teacher and looking worried. "Let's go together; the road could be dangerous," he added.

After Bob and Mom hugged each other with relief, Bob told her where we were going. Once again, Gabe offered to go, apparently bored of being stuck at home, and once again, Mom immediately refused to let him go.

On the way to where Case lived in Mom's car, the road was much clearer, making our trip easier.

"Oh no," Bob said when we finally arrived at the lot full of containers where Case lived, as we looked at the disaster that used to be our training ground.

There was trash everywhere. All the 'equipment' that Case had made was nowhere to be seen. Tree branches, tires, rocks, and even, strangely, a car door were scattered all over what was previously our training ground.

It would be very difficult to clean everything up.

"Case, are you okay?" I shouted to the muscular man, who was throwing away the trash near his home as I got out of the car.

As I approached, I noticed that the side of his trailer had a large dent and the windows were missing where glass should have been.

"Yeah," Case responded slowly, surprised by my presence there.

"Let me give you a hand with that," Bob quickly said beside me, approaching Case, who was having trouble lifting a really large branch out of the way of his home.

Helping to clear some of the trash from the path to his trailer, it took us a few minutes—much less time than if it had just been two people, or worse, just Case.

When we finished clearing the small area, Tim arrived in his truck.

"Wow," my giant friend said, incredulous at the mess.

"I know. Everything okay at your place?" I asked, greeting my muscular friend.

"Yeah, my mom was at work, and my siblings were a bit scared, but everything's fine," my friend responded kindly as always. "What about you?"

"All good. Dad, this is Tim Newhouse; he also trains with Case," I quickly introduced them, seeing the surprise on Bob's face—Tim was even taller than Bob.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Duncan," Tim said kindly, giving Bob a firm handshake.

"Likewise," Bob said, smiling, though a bit intimidated.

"What are you going to do, Case?" Tim asked the other muscular man, who was staring seriously at the entire area. "It's too much to clean by hand."

"Yeah, it is. And by tomorrow, it'll be infested with rats and other animals," Bob added.

"I need to move," Case calmly declared. "This place is lost," he added with some disappointment in his voice.

"If you need, you can park it in front of our house," Bob offered calmly, surprising Case.

"I don't want to be a burden," Case quickly declined.

"Nonsense," Bob immediately replied. "We live on the corner of the street; we have plenty of space to park your trailer. You can stay there as long as you need until you find another place or until this one is cleaned up," he added.

"Are you sure?" Case asked seriously.

"Of course, and it's the perfect excuse for that barbecue—I promised you one at Christmas, after all," Bob said cheerfully, patting Case on the shoulder. "Let's see if it starts or if we have to tow it with the car," he added, walking towards the front of the trailer, ignoring anything else Case might have to say about it.

"You have a great dad," Tim said, amused, kicking a small stone on the ground.

"Yeah, I know," I responded, equally amused.

After cleaning the broken glass from the driver's seat, Case started his trailer, allowing us to say goodbye to Tim before heading home, where Bob explained his idea to Mom.

"My man is a great person," Mom said 'excitedly,' hugging Bob.

Yeah, I didn't want to see that.

As I went outside with Case, I found him taping newspaper over where the windows of his trailer should be. "Need anything else?" I asked.

"Nothing, thanks," Case said, taping the last piece. "We train in ten—get dressed," he added as he threw the tape and remaining newspaper inside his trailer.

"What?" I asked, surprised, watching as he stretched to grab something from inside his trailer.

"Today's a training day. Tim had to go home, but it's just you and me here. Go change; we're going to practice on the ground," Case said, holding a surprisingly large flashlight in his hand and positioning it over his trailer so that it illuminated a large part of my front yard.

Incredulous at the situation, my brain couldn't process what Case had just said.

"What are you waiting for?" Case asked harshly, snapping me out of my trance.

That day, my training with Case was one of the toughest I'd ever had. Usually, with Tim, I had time to rest after each technique. For some reason, Case avoided resting.

He wasn't taking out his anger over losing his training ground on me, was he?

I hadn't noticed, but at some point during my training with Case, the people in my house, along with some neighbors, had come out to watch the show. My yard, as well as the Coopers', was filled with garden chairs and people enjoying themselves, eating and drinking. How had I not noticed them arrive?

"That was the best thing I've ever seen, so cool," Missy said excitedly, sitting in a garden chair next to Teddy, completely focused on my bare chest.

"Thanks," I said, trying to cover my body with my arms, a little uncomfortable with my semi-nakedness, as I walked back into the house, feeling all the eyes on the street on me. I could hear whistles behind me, making me quicken my pace.

That night, with the neighbors who came out to enjoy the show, Bob and Mr. Cooper brought out their grills, turning the bad experience of the tornado into a neighborhood barbecue.

"I need to go," Case said nervously, avoiding the gaze of some women. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had caught people's attention.

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Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

Another chapter has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to especially thank:

RandomPasserby96

11332223

keyakedo

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

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