"I'm..." He squeaked out, then noticing how high pitched his voice was. "I didn't mean for your shoes to get dirty. They look nice."
The blonde child looked at him, his own eyes a little teary. "Uh..." Was all he got out before the door next to the bench swung open, a woman in a long dress and tight black shoes coming out, arm open to let another go before her.
Who came out was another boy, taller than the two of them, which wasn't just because he was two grades above them. Other fourth graders were almost a head smaller than he was. His face was a little less beaten up, mostly it was just dirty with a small scrape on his forehead. His face wasn't in the same saddened state, though. He was actually smiling.
"Ivan, go right into class. I don't want to hear anything else about this, alright? Do you understand?"
"Of course, Mrs. Wynne." He beamed at her, innocence shining through his dirty face. "We'll all be good after this."
"Good...oh, Ivan, wash your face first." Ivan beamed at her again and almost skipped down the hall.
"I hate that guy."
The taller boy turned to stare at his companion, eyes wide. Mrs. Wynne shared the same stare.
"Both of you. Inside. Now. Feliks, you come in first. Then you Toris." The boy who had just spoke rolled his eyes and plopped off the bench, sulking into the office. Toris shakily followed, wondering now how much trouble they must really be in.
***
Sitting in one of the office chairs, Toris' feet could barely touch the floor. He felt too nervous to look at the principal, now questioning Feliks who looked just as nervous but in a different way.
"Please tell me what happened, Feliks. All of it this time."
"But...but I already did! That's how it happened! He knows too. Ask him, he'll tell you the same thing, I swear!"
Toris snapped his head up quickly, eyes wide. The principal turned to him, now with a softer tone.
"Toris, please tell me what happened a little bit ago. And we don't tell any lies in this room, understand?"
He nodded his head, looking back at his shoes. He should be grateful that he had shoes, but right now he hated them and the horrible frayed laces and the soles that were starting to get holes on the sides.
"W-Well..." Toris started, not moving his gaze. He began to tell the story while Mrs. Wynne stared at him intently.
It had only been thirty minutes ago that all the grades had been let out for recess. It was one day before Christmas break, and the teachers were beginning to be more lenient with school work, so recess had begun to get longer and longer. It was only a little chilly; Southern Californian winters were never really harsh so most of the children were still in shorts and t-shirts, running around without a complaint.
Toris wasn't much for running around so much as he was sitting or doing his own thing at recess. He wasn't lazy by any means, but Toris still hadn't found his niche. His teachers knew he was a friendly child, he was just a little bit of a loner; it was expected he would one day grow out of it. So at this recess, it was to be expected he could be found alone. He'd taken himself underneath one of the various trees on the play lot and sat with a book.
He only looked up from one of the pages when he heard the sound of feet close to him. When he did so, he recognized the tall boy who had come over to him.
Ivan was by all means a friendly child, at least in Toris' eyes in the beginning. Toris wasn't used to particular attention, so when Ivan would stop him in the hallway and make idle chatter or when he caught the fourth grader staring at him sometimes at recess, Toris felt more than a little flustered. Something about him made his stomach feel a little queasy, and when Ivan would smile at him and stare so blatantly, it started to make Toris feel extremely uncomfortable. He automatically felt uneasy when he looked up and saw that was who approached him. He thought about it sometimes when he was alone; laying in bed or in the bath. He never really got why Ivan made him feel so strange and squirmy, but it didn't change the knot he got in his stomach.
"Hello Toris. Are you having fun?"
"Yes." Toris said, staring back down at his book.
"Good." Ivan smiled, clasping his hands together in front of him. "But aren't you bored, just reading? We can do something else. It's nice out."
"I want to finish this before we leave for break..." Toris began. "So I can turn it back into the libra-"
"Our librarian said we can keep books during break. We can play tag if you want. Or just sit somewhere together. I like talking to you."
Toris bit his lip. "I really want to sit here."
He expected Ivan would give up or get bored of him but instead he just came closer, standing in front of him, shadowing him, making Toris look up.
"Don't you know I'm older than you? You're supposed to listen to people older than you, right?" Ivan was still staring and smiling.
"Yes," Toris nodded, stomach even more upset. "I'm not very good at most games, though, so...maybe you should play with kids your own age."
"I want to play with you though." And that's when Ivan's hands were on his wrist, dragging him upward. Toris' book fell to the dirt and he felt the tree bark scrape the back of his head. He wasn't sure how loudly he had said "Ow" or if that was even what he'd said, but he knew something had come out of his mouth. Ivan's grip on his arm was tight, but Toris didn't fight it, instead just stood up and let his arm go where Ivan wanted. He strained his face, as defiant as he could be, but he didn't want to anger him.
It wasn't long, though, until the hands were off of him. There was a scream, Toris remembered, and suddenly Ivan was on the ground. Toris glanced around in disbelief, finally seeing the cause. A child he vaguely recognized from being in another class of his lay on the ground, also looking a little surprised. He quickly shook his head and got up, rushing over to Ivan, who was getting up too.
"Feliks." Was all he said, before Feliks was on him again, pounding on his chest. Ivan looked unimpressed and quickly shoved Feliks back down onto the dirt. All Toris could do was watch as the two wrestled, bringing other children to watch and cheer. It seemed like forever before a teacher finally came over, pulling the two apart.
"See, that's what I said happened!" Feliks said, Toris done with his story.
The principal just sat there, hands folded and staring. "Would you like to hear what Ivan said?"
No one answered so she continued. "Ivan says that he just wanted to play with you, Toris, and that Feliks here started to beat him up. And it sounds like you just said the same thing."
"But he didn't WANT to play. Ivan is big, he's fat, and he's a liar." Feliks yelled, anger apparent on his face.
"Feliks, that is enough. You are already in enough trouble as it is. Ivan is a good boy and you aren't being a very good one yourself. Toris, please go back to class. I'll call your mother and explain your injuries. Feliks, you stay right here."
Toris didn't need another invitation. He nodded quickly and jumped from the chair, walking out quickly. He vaguely heard the start of more of Feliks' complaining, but he didn't want to be there for anymore of that. He didn't go back to class, but ran to the nearest restroom. It was during class hours, so it was empty. He went to the mirror trying hard to see the scrape on the back of his head. He felt a little dried blood on his hair, but he couldn't really find the wound. He wet his hands and wiped at his hair, rinsing off some of the dried blood. He remembered Feliks and Ivan going to the nurses office, but he was taken straight to the administrative hallway, plopped down on a bench and told to sit, forgotten about until Feliks got back.
He winced at his wound, his fingers finally finding the source. It was just a scrape, but it was still sore, covered in a dried blood scab. His mother would no doubt see it and coddle him needlessly, which he wasn't in any state to complain about. After cleaning off the rest of his dirty hair, he moved to the back end of the small restroom, getting a line of paper towels from the grimy crank-laden dispenser. Toris jumped, though, after hearing the door to the bathroom slam open and turned suddenly, only to see Feliks sulking in. The blonde didn't notice him for a few seconds, hands balled into fists, walking briskly to the first sink. When he did see Toris he stopped, staring at him with wide eyes, but then clumsily turning on the sink faucets and washing his hands.
Toris ripped off his paper towel chain awkwardly, folding it up into a small square for his head. Feliks, meanwhile, was splashing water on his shorts, a grass stain covering the bottom cuff of their beautiful white denim. Feliks looked aggressive but was being quiet about it now, causing Toris to be a little confused.
"Uhm..." He began, causing Feliks to stop splashing his shorts. "Thank you again. I don't know what happened but it helped me."
Feliks looked a little worried before he began again. "I know Ivan. I hate him."
"You know him? Like not just in school?"
"We're...cousins, okay. And he's a weirdo."
"Oh." Toris stopped. "Well...you still did something good for me so thanks."
"Uh-huh." Feliks nodded, still looking down at his stained shorts.
Toris pat his hair dry and pressed the paper towel into his scrape. It stung for a second. A few seconds later he threw the paper towel in the trash, making his way out of the bathroom. Before he left, though, he turned back to the quiet again blonde boy, back to rubbing at his shorts.
"Feliks?"
"Yeah?" He stopped again, looking at Toris with widened eyes.
"My- My mom takes stains like that out all the time. She uses syrup. You just, uh, put a little pool on and then tap it in with your finger and wash it. Then the stains gone."
Feliks' eyes slivered now. "That's totally dumb. Why would I want grass stains and sticky stuff on my cool shorts?"
"I'm...That's just what she does. My little cousin gets grass stains on his pants all the time and she fixes them. Your mom can do it too."
"My mom isn't into fixing my clothes. She'll get me some new ones though." He finally gave up, throwing his own wadded up paper towel in the trash, water dripping down his leg. "I liked these though, it sucks."
"Yeah..." Toris trailed off, not knowing what to say, especially since he wasn't sure if 'sucks' was a bad word or not. "I have to go though. Back to class."
"Yeah, cool, whatever." Feliks was now trying to shine the dirt off of his shoes in the sink, getting his socks soaked. "Don't let Ivan get near you or you'll get his weird too."
Toris nodded, then wondered why, silently opening the door to the bathroom and sliding out. He walked briskly all the way to class,walking into the room without a word from anyone.
***
The walk home wasn't too far for Toris, who was dragging a smaller child with him. If his mother had it her way, he would be riding the bus to and from school. His aunt, however, was insistent that because her child Eduard was starting school, and because buses were unsafe, he had to be walked to and from school. Though, of course, she was more interested in sleeping to walk him herself, thus Toris was given the position. His mother didn't have the power in the house to say no.
It wasn't that Toris minded walking Eduard around, but at this age, 5, all he did was ask questions. Toris was a surprisingly patient child, and tried to answer what he could, even while trying to navigate he and his ward through California after school traffic.
"Toris, how does that sign know you pressed the button?" He asked now, after Toris had hit the button for the crosswalk, almost having to stand on his tiptoes.
"I don't know, Eddy. Maybe wires. Ask your teacher tomorrow." He stood, frowning glumly, wanting to be home and in bed.
"Okay. I will." Eduard smiled slightly, reaching for the button, trying with all his might to reach and press it. Toris let go of the small boys hand, and moved behind him, picking him up by the armpits so he could press the large red button, which he did so repeatedly. Some of the civilians around him laughed and 'awwww'ed while others smacked their gums and rolled their eyes. As soon as the signal switched, though, Eduard was back on his feet and the two were walking the three city blocks to their brownstone.
Once they finally reached the large apartment complex, it was a five flight walk up to their small apartment. The trek wasn't usually so bad but the building was incredibly bustling today, including a very angry Moldovan man shouting outside on the stoop, an enthusiastic new couple in the third stairwell, an irritated old janitor that yelled at the boys for stepping on his freshly waxed stairs, and a very heated eviction going on right down their hall. Toris felt so relieved when they were finally unlocking the door with a key produced from Toris' backpack, and Eduard was starting to get a little antsy as well.
Entering the small apartment, Toris immediately took off his shoes and put them on the small mat assigned for them, helping Eduard with his laces right after despite his protest. It took Eduard's mother a little while to get out of the kitchen, cigarette in hand.
"There he is! Was your day nice, Eduard?" She laughed, accent heavy and smelling of what Toris figured to be rubbing alcohol. It wasn't very easy to figure it out, though, through her cloud of cigarette smoke. Aunt Leena always had some sort of strange smell to her, though, so that wasn't strange.
"Are they home?" Came a voice from the kitchen, this one Toris was actually pleased to hear. His mother came in, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Oh thank God, Toris, your school called and your head...this woman called."
She came over, flustered and forgetting herself in front of her older sister, scooping Toris into her arms. "Did you get hurt? Show me?"
Her sister rolled her eyes, picking up her son who began to cough, stalking out of the room, mumbling something in Estonian that Toris could only make out to be "Poor dumb Agne." She took a drag off her cigarette, switching to English. "She's been running around...like a dead chicken. Head gone and all." She made a motion with her hand against her throat, though with her cigarette laden hand causing her to cross her eyes.
"Only a little mom. We don't have to speak English if you want." He began to part his hair, turning around, talking to her quietly.
"No, it's good for you to speak English always." She said, separating his hair with her fingers. "You learn more that way...oh Toris, I see it. Who did this kind of thing to you?" She stood, gingerly keeping her fingers right under where the scab was, another on Toris back. "Come to the washroom, we'll fix it."
He led his mother to the communal restroom, passing through their small living room where his other aunt was laying on the couch. Aunt Alisa was the second child of the three, but the one with the newest baby. The two were asleep, son on her rising and falling stomach. From there, there were only three other doors: the one leading into his mother and aunt's bedroom, his shared bedroom with Eduard and baby Raivis, and then the bathroom. The apartment was really small, with only five real rooms. But then, that was all the family could afford, even with three working women. Then again, it was hard for three undocumented women who spoke broken english to get jobs that weren't sleazy or involved cleaning one thing or another. It was a momentous day when Alisa, fresh off the plane, got a job at the grocery store, though her English was certainly better than anyone else's.
Entering the washroom, Toris plopped down on the toilet, wrinkling his nose at the smell of cigarette smoke thick in the air. Leena was accustomed to blowing her cigarette smoke into the bathroom fan, though all that did was blow it right back. He watched his mother dig around in the small cupboard, sliding bottles over to produce a small bottle of peroxide and a circular band aid.
"This will hurt, but you mustn't cry." She said gently using a piece of toiler paper to dab at his wound with peroxide. "There's a nurse at school, Toris? With things like this?"
"Yeah," he crossed his feet at the ankles, pressing into his shinbone at the pain. "They didn't tell me to go though. I don't think I'm allowed."
"Silly. That's silly." She finally dried his scab, placing the band aid on it and pressing lightly, which even that made Toris wince. "They don't let you go because it's a rich school."
"I don't know, Mom." He stared back down at his shoes, feeling bad for thinking so badly of them earlier.
"Go on, go. Homework before dinner, okay?" She patted him on the back, but not before kissing his head, making sure not to disturb his wound. Toris fixed his hair, watching her leave and shutting the door. He hopped up, quickly opening the window overlooking the alley and watched the thick air stream out, the colour of softened smoke. He could see his school from here, the neighbourhood where most of the children went on the opposite side. Though the buildings were just as tall on his side of the city, the gold and light brown colours of the other buildings looked much taller and thicker and more important. He wondered for a moment if the families in those buildings only had five rooms and smoked in bathrooms and had to share a bed with their little cousin. He bet if Leena smoked in the bathroom of one of those buildings, two or three security guards would come and snatch her up and throw her in a jail.
But he quickly scampered off to his room, tossing off his backpack onto the small cot he shared with Eduard (who was lucky enough to not have homework) and began to read from the activity book he was assigned. He'd done almost eight pages when a hand slammed up against his door repeatedly.
"Toris! Are you just going to lay around or help?" He slammed his book shut, quickly pulling off his cleaner socks to put on the ones he kept tucked under the mattress, filled with holes but what he used for cleaning. It was routine that when his mother left for work at her evening job it was Toris who needed to help with dishes, dinner, and then cleaning up afterwards. He rushed to the door, opening it to see Leena staring at him incredulously.
"Did Mom say goodbye?"
"No. Why does she need to? Agne acts like a goose on an egg, Lord." She turned on her heel, tightening the sloppy loop on her apron behind her with painted, long nails. "We need clean pans. Make sure you scrub well."
It wasn't long before his arms were reddened by the hot water, just short of needing a step stool to get to the sink. Leena sat watching the oven, an old gas stove with no timer, smoking yet again.
"So. Toris." She asked, cigarette in her mouth as she examined her nails. "What happened to you today? You should have seen Agne, acting like you were taken."
"Uhm." Toris began, continuing to wash while he talked. "It was my fault. I was a little rude to an older boy and an accident happened."
He heard her snort and could picture her made up face scowling. "Just like your mother. Letting people walk all over. Turn around, you look at me."
Slowly he turned to her, eyes wide.
"When someone makes you bleed, you do just as good to them. My husband thought it would be funny to smack me around and look where he is. Not here, is he? Piss poor man. Just like the tough guy who did this to you." Toris actually had no idea what she meant or where her husband was. This was the first time he'd actually heard about a husband before. "Are you going to stare like a big bug or say thank you to your Auntie?"
"Thank you, Aunt Leena." He nodded, turning back to his dishes. He couldn't imagine himself hurting someone. Even a scrape. Ivan really hadn't meant this to happen, even though he hadn't said sorry either. Feliks was so brave, and Toris could almost say cool. Fast and thrashing around. But for someone so brave he certainly was so weird.
"You're getting soap all over." Broken from his reverie, he reached around and pulled the plug from the sink, beginning to rinse the soap suds from the dishes he'd just cleaned.
***
The next day at school, the last before Christmas was out, Toris had finished 15 pages in his workbook, finished both of his library books and tested on both of them. The last day before any break was exceptionally lazy, as the children from Toris' grade were all packed in the gym, waiting for coaches or teachers to tell them what activity they were going to do that day. Toris sat on his big rubber placement dot, tracing the dirty tape on the gymnasium floor with a finger. His tracing was interrupted by the obnoxious sound of rubber moving around on plastic floor, screeching in his direction. Looking up ,a familiar face was scooting towards him, using his legs to drag his butt (still firmly planted on another rubber dot) to Toris, stopping about five feet away.
"What's up?" Feliks asked, tapping his feet on the ground.
"You're not supposed to move around..." Toris looked around, nervous for a teacher to see.
Feliks only rolled his eyes. "No! They said don't get off your dot. Mine's right here."
Toris nodded, admiring the clever notion.
"Anyway, I have something to tell you."
"What?"
Feliks scooted over, causing more horrible rubber rubbing sounds. "So I tried that thing you told me? I did it myself. Annnnnd it didn't go so good."
"What did you do?"
"Bozo, I did the syrup thing! On the shorts. Except I forgot how much." Feliks could barely stifle his giggle. "So I just poured it all over them. Mom caught me and got so mad I got it on the carpet."
While Feliks' face was one of amusement and laughter, Toris looked on in horror. He couldn't count how many times he'd be reprimanded and possibly slapped by Leena if he ever wasted clothes or food like that.
"Who cares though because she's getting me more today. I told you that would happen." Feliks crossed his legs, looking proud.
Toris wondered what happened to the shyer boy that was in the bathroom yesterday, pouring water all down his front. "It's sad you couldn't save the other ones though."
"I don't care. If I get another it doesn't matter." Feliks pulled at the tips of his shorts today, though he had a pair of leggings on underneath this time, shorts neon green and leggings crystal blue. "These are cool too. Someone said his sister had some. She must be pretty cool too to have cool things like this."
Toris had no idea what to feel about a pair of clothing he'd only seen twice so he just nodded.
"Do you have any cool things?" Feliks asked, hands on his elbows which rested on his crossed knees.
"No, not really." Toris admitted. He wondered what he should have said because that didn't feel right.
"You should get some cool things. Like shoes and toys and stuff. I have so much cool stuff. One day I'll show you so you can figure out what cool things you want too."
"Show me?"
"Yeah, you can come over sometime. Especially since I have a job for you to do."
After saying this, Feliks slid off his dot, getting really close to Toris, leaning in. Toris leaned in too, whispering. "What job?"
"So you don't like Ivan, right?"
Toris felt bad for shaking his head but he couldn't help it. "Good, okay. Because I want us to go on a mission."
"What kind of mission?"
"We're gonna get Ivan back, okay? He lives right above me in my building so we can play a trick on him for hurting your head and messing up my shorts."
"I don't think I want to do that. Ivan's bigger..." His children's imagination revisited the scene with Ivan, his figure shadowing over him two stories more than what was realistic.
"Do you want to come to my house or not?" Feliks said loudly, causing Toris to lean back quickly.
"I guess...but I've never been to someone else's house before. Just mine."
"I've never had anyone but Ivan over either. Him and his sisters. But weird people don't count. Are you weird, Toris?"
"I don't think so."
"When you come over, I'll give you a test to see if you're weird or not."
Just then, a shrill whistle blew, causing Feliks to cover his ears and immediately scoot off.
The rest of the day was spent throwing balls and running, Toris running out of breath often. They spent hours in the gym before another sharp whistle blew and a shout to all the children that Christmas break had begun.
Filing into the school with an excitement that had no rival, most of the children grabbed their bags and ran for the front of the school ready to leave. Toris didn't have much to be excited for. While he'd heard classmates talking about grandiose gifts and trips away from the state, the country, his holiday would be filled with the same routine and a meager feast on Christmas and New Years as well as family traditions. Nothing so grand as going anywhere or getting more than a couple gifts.
He was putting your backpack on when a strong force came to slap him right near his shoulder blades, making him fall forward into his small cubby locker. He wasn't too quick to whip around, fearing Ivan was back to exact some sort of punishment but instead saw Feliks running backward clumsily down the hall. "Check your back!" he called, before spinning around to race to the exit like the rest of the milling children. He reached a hand over his shoulder, pulling off a pink sticky note with big scribbles in purple marker. There was a jostle of numbers that when he held it a certain way made out an address and a telephone number, an arrow pointing to the other side. Flipping it over there was a big looping smiley face with a large signature (FELIKS!) written on the back.
Whether or not he'd be able to accept the invitation, he had all of Christmas break to figure it out.