I'm surprised that Gunnar's OK with this whole incident. I was actually angry by him not caring. But I kept my mouth shut and walked out the door. I sat on the porch with my head in my hands. I felt someone put a hard hand on my shoulder. It was unsteady and shook. I looked up to see it was Jon-Jon. I held his arm so he wouldn't fall over.
"Hey…I...I…uh…hey," was all he could manage between slurred words.
All I did was look up at him. I glared at him hard, trying to figure out what was on his mind. I got nothing. No expression whatsoever.
"Look, Maverick. You know I didn't mean a damn thing I did to y'all at the theater. Huh, you know that right? Do ya?"
"Damn straight, but I don't think Mick did."
"Aw shoot, man? What do ya mean? Don't tell me that was him I chased into the woods?" Jon-Jon said, standing up. He began to sweat and pace back and forth on the porch.
"Yea." I said, I know he didn't mean it all. But I was still pretty ticked about the whole situation.
"Shoot, Mavie! We gotta go find 'im," he jumped off the porch, "well, c'mon, Mav!"
"What do ya mean 'we'? I sure as shootin' didn't do nothing to 'im. What you want me to go for?"
"Maverick, I can barely stand. Think I'll be able to chase down some scrawny kid runnin' for his life?"
I felt bad for him. He wanted to go apologize and I was standing in the way, "yea, sure. I'll go."
"Great! Well, c'mon, Mavie!" he took off running and I chased him down.
We ran together neck-and-neck, hollerin' for Mick. It was about ten at night and it sure was dark. I wanted to give up. I knew Mickey was somewhere safe. Jon-Jon surely didn't want to give up, though. He kept pushing me on. I stopped and put my hands on my knees; I was breathing hard and my ribs hurt.
I looked up at Jon-Jon who was sober enough now, "c'mon, Maverick, please. We can't give up on ol' Mickey now. I feel just God awful terrible about this whole mess. He's gotta know how much I'm sorry."
I couldn't breath and neither could Jon-Jon, but he doesn't smoke like me and my lungs were on fire. I lay on the ground grabbing onto my chest. Jon-Jon sat down next to me and cried. I never heard Jon-Jon cry in my life. I can honestly say I didn't like it too much. Just then, like almost perfect timing, came out Mick from the bushes. He wiped his face with his jeans jacket sleeve. Which told me he was crying, too.
Next thing I knew, Jon-Jon and Mick were wrapped up in a big hug. Jon-Jon was telling Mick something that I couldn't hear. Maybe it was too personal for me to hear. I don't know, but I didn't want to interrupt. I got up and started to walk down the street as Jon-Jon and Mick stood up too.
I walked faster than everyone else and I kinda felt left out. It's not like I wanted them to feel bad for me being left out, I just…I don't know what I wanted. I just didn't feel to good about the whole thing. Don't get me wrong, I was happy that Mick and Jon-Jon got made up and everything.
I walked into my house and pushed open the screen door quietly. Jaggar was asleep sprawled out on the couch. But Gunnar shot up from his spot at the rocking chair to meet me at the door. I was blindsided by a sharp slap to the face.
"Next time you planning on stayin' out this late you oughta tell me. Damnit, Mav. Why don't you just ever listen."
"Knock it off, Gunnar! I was with Jon the whole time, we were looking for Mick! And don't say ya didn't know that! Next time you hit me again I oughta slap you silly, Gunnar!"
Oh boy, oh boy. Not the smartest thing to say, I swear I'm the dumbest kid alive. Gunnar pushed me across the room; I flew into the screen door and busted open my head a little. I touched it and saw blood. I looked up at Gunnar, his face was as pale as ever.
"Aw gosh, Maverick, I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I'm awfully sorry."
I just looked at him and gunned it for the door. I jumped off the porch and I could here Gunnar yellin' for me to come on back. I ran up to Jon-Jon's house. I stood at the door, waiting to knock on it. I just couldn't muscle up the courage to hit my fist off of that wood. I just took a seat on his porch. I fell asleep before I got the chance to go inside. I woke up soaked, it was pouring
down rain.
Jon-Jon opened up his door, "man, Maverick. Whatcha doin' out here, kid? Whatever, just get on in here."
I walked into his house shivering and chattering my teeth. Jon-Jon gave me a hoodie of his. He also gave me an old pair of jeans. They were a little big, but I could manage. I was warm, but I was starving. I didn't want to say anything, and I didn't have to, my stomach growled loudly.
"Hungry, Mavie?"
"Uh yea, if it ain't a trouble to you."
"Aw shoot, its alright. I owe you more than I could ever repay you."
"What do ya mean?"
"How you stuck with me when we were looking for Mick. I figured you'd hate me forever and a day with the dumb thing I did at the movies. But no, you kept on when I figured you were too tired to quit."
"I was tired, and I did want to quit, that's the thing. I wanted to stop, but you pulled me through. You don't owe me nothin, it was all you."
"Still…" he got me a peanut butter sandwich and some milk. I finished it all pretty quickly.
"I oughta apologize for fallin' asleep on your doorstep like that."
"Forget about it, anytime. Hey, by the way, why did ya come to my house. What I mean is why weren't you at yours?"
"Gunnar hit me." I said, I scratched at the wound on my head and showed him the blood on my hand.
"Shoot, Mav, sorry."
"Yea, I ran away because he wants me too. He hates me, he wants me to run away and never come back like Mom and Dad.
Jon-Jon snapped like I knew he would, "naw, now you don't go sayin' things that you know for sure ain't true. Now, Gunnar loves you. Sometimes you can be a reckless fool, you don't use your head. Surprised he hadn't hit you before now."
"Yea, well, I don't know."
"Go on, get. Sure the boys back home are worried 'bout ya."
