"That's the way I am…"

Chapter 2: Who's gonna drop dead?

As the train pulled up to the station, Ricky gave Clifford a brisk handshake and hug.

"Be careful getting home, man. Can you make it okay?"

"Ehh, don't worry about me…this is my territory. I'm all grown up now."

"True, but you don't have your bodyguard." Ricky grinned.

The train doors slid open and Clifford pushed him inside. "In this day and age, I'll need some weaponry too. But I pass. You care a lot about people don't you?"

Ricky glanced soberly at his boots. He caught his eye just as the door closed. "You know me, Cliff, that's the way I am…"

As the train pulled out, Ricky settled down in a seat by the window. One elderly bag lady slept in the back. Ricky peered at her, just to make sure she was still alive. The old woman's head rolled forward and she snapped to attention. It wasn't her stop yet. Her sallow eyes drifted closed again and she snored. Ricky smiled. He crossed his arms and leaned back, lost in memories of that night.

Flashback: 1979

Ricky couldn't look Clifford's way as the train rode out of the station. He was too embarrassed. Tears misted his eyes and made his cheeks itch when he rubbed them.

Crap, I got snot on my sleeve. He thought.

He last cried at his brother's funeral a year ago. He sank deeper into his seat. All his energy drained. It took all his vital force to admit the truth to Clifford.

"I didn't find him! I shot him! I shot him!...We were home alone and I was playing with my dad's gun, he said let me have it and I said no! I was too busy showing off like a damn fool. He got angry with me and grabbed it...and it fired! My God! I was laughing when it went off! Blood gushed out of the side of his head and he didn't even know it. He was afraid that when dad got home he'd get spanked. Do know what he said to me as he was dying? He said, 'You're gonna have to take the blame for this one.' I couldn't even do that right...I lied, I put the gun in his hand and said I found him that way!"

He never told anyone before.

Aren't you supposed to feel relief when you confess your sins? He pondered. Where's mine?

Right now Ricky didn't feel a thing. He could have bashed his head against the window bars ten times and it wouldn't have made a difference. But he had no clue what to do next. Loosening up and hanging with other students wasn't as bad as he imagined. They shared unreasonable fears and whispers among themselves, but when they actually came to know him, they liked him. That didn't make up for all the time Ricky spent being ridiculed. They warped his tragedy so much that he was believed to be a deranged cop-killer and rapist. It wasn't fair.

Let this happen to one of them and see how they like it! He thought bitterly. I wouldn't have teased them or avoided them.

Ricky's hands shook and he unclenched his fists. His oil stained fingernails dug into his palms so tight he drew a little blood. The sleeves of his jacket rose up and he saw the horrible reminders of his guilt scarred across his wrist. He balled his hands again and banged on his knees. Would anyone really care if he tried to do it again? His parents barely acknowledged him; he had no friends…except Clifford Peache. What was one friend in a world of billions of strangers? Clifford would forget him soon enough and muddle through the rest of High School.

"Who'd watch the little guy's back?" Ricky whispered. " I still owe him six bucks...screw it! He's got a loving family and a lot of money… he'll be alright."

He resolved to have no hesitation this time, and he would have to make sure no one was home to catch him. His mind wandered with brutal preparations and the train entered into another station. A young woman dressed in faded denims staggered into the car and slammed herself in the seats across from Ricky. He glanced in her direction, not really seeing her, but just looking into space. She caught his eye and glared at him.

"What the hell are you looking at? You think I'm pretty? You think this is pretty! You're so tough, maybe you'd like to make it prettier?"

The make-up on her dark lined eyes smeared across her soft cheeks. His gaze lowered toward her mouth. She cupped her hand on the side of her lip and Ricky was startled to see a cut and rapidly swelling bruise. A few drops of blood dribbled from her nostril. Ricky instinctively raised his hand in a gentle motion, but he caught himself and drew it back to his coat. What was he going to do? Wipe it away?

He eyed her sharply. "No, it's not pretty! And don't assume I would do that." He fumed. "And maybe I wasn't looking at you, alright."

Ricky turned away from her and the flush of hurt and irritation attacked his cheeks. The girl was visibly distressed. She curled up against the window and whimpered. Ricky felt sorry, but she wasn't his problem right now. He hated when his thoughts were rudely interrupted.

He pulled at his hair and mumbled. "You damn freak, Ricky!" He rocked back and forth. "You monster! Just do it already and drop dead! Drop dead! Drop dead!"

The girl stopped crying and wiped her face and bloody nose with a crumpled tissue from her pocket. She slid from her seat and plopped herself next to him.

She nudged his arm. "Who's gonna drop dead?"

Ricky couldn't raise his head from his hands. "Me!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm a nobody. I deserve to!"

"Why, what did you do?"

"I did something horrible and unforgivable…just leave it at that."

"People do horrible things every day…pick your head up, look at my face."

Ricky slowly lifted his head, and for the first time, really stared at the girl. Despite the nasty bruises, she was lovely. Her blue eyes glowed vividly from the tears creating swirls of violet. They reminded him of the Siamese cats he used to feed in his alley at night that always knew when he was home and whined by the back door for treats. She couldn't have been more than seventeen. Her features were strong for a girl so young. He admired them.

"I'm looking…" He whispered glumly. "Now what?"

"This really hurts, you know? You wanna know who did this?"

"No…"

"My boyfriend!"

"He beats you to a pulp and you still call him your boyfriend?" Ricky groaned. "That's stupid."

The girl clamped her mouth shut and nodded. "You're right, he's my ex-boyfriend. That loser!" She nudged Ricky again. "He did something horrible, and I know I'll forgive him later, even if I want to kill him right now."

Ricky sighed and sat up tall. He forced himself to give her his attention otherwise she would nudge him the whole ride.

"Sure…and then you'll go back to him like an abused housewife. I see it all the time."

"I will not! I'll never take him back, I don't need him any more."

"Yeah, otherwise, you may not have a face left. You need that."

The girl folded her arms stubbornly. "Didn't you get my point…about people doing horrible things?"

Ricky shrugged. "Not really. What's the fact that he beats you have to do with me? In case you're wondering, I don't beat up on women."

"Rrr! I mean…that horrible things can be forgiven, so whatever you've done, can be forgiven too."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Where do you get this stuff? Dear Abby?"

The girl perked up. "Yeah, how'd you know? I love her column…and her sisters, Ann Landers and Doctor Joyce! Umm, I think they're all sisters…"

Ricky shook his head. "Only Ann and Abby…arrgh, What I've done can never be…uhh…undone."

"Of course it can't. We can't go back in time and change things like that, but we can always move on." She leaned over and gripped his wrist. Ricky flinched, but didn't pull away. She ran her fingers over his scars sympathetically.

"Every time I read or hear about someone who killed themselves, I want to cry…and I usually do. Our lives can never be that bad if we compare it to others in the world…at least it shouldn't be… aww crud, I'm gonna cry again." She choked and turned her head away, but didn't let go of his wrist and tenderly stroked it. Ricky enjoyed the sensation but slowly eased it from her hands.

"Hey, don't cry for me, you don't even know me."

"So what? You're another human being and that's enough."

"Big deal, people die every second of the day. We can't waste our tears for all of them." Ricky kicked at the chair in front of him.

She sniffled and flicked her hair. Ricky could tell she flat-ironed it. It hung parted down the middle and waved slightly past her shoulders. A few dark chestnut strands brushed across his cheek and he liked its softness. He imagined she did that on purpose, but he didn't mind.

"Then…whom are you wasting your tears on?" She questioned.

Ricky's jaw hung open…was he really only crying for his brother… or himself? He tilted his head confused.

"I...I don't know anymore."

"Look, I didn't say you can't have a moment to cry…we all need that. I was just wondering."

Ricky fidgeted as the train made another stop and more people boarded with passing glances at the two of them. One woman in a business suit glowered at him severely and continued down to the opposite row of seats. The girl pretended to be oblivious and played with the zipper on her denim jacket. Ricky slumped down again and elbowed her.

"Hey listen, why don't you go sit somewhere else?"

"What do you mean? I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Yeah, you are. I came on here to be by myself, not to hear your pep talks."

"What's the matter? I can move behind you, but then you'd have to keep turning your neck to talk…If I move in front, I'll have to strain to talk to you, I'm happy sitting here."

Ricky gaped at her. "Happy? Who says I even wanna talk to you? I don't know you."

"No one says, but I'm trying to keep your mind off what you were thinking before. I don't know you either, but this is how people connect."

Ricky heaved his arms up and down. "Sure. So now you're a mind-reader? What was I thinking?"

The girl put her leg up. She sat upon it and then faced him. She leaned over and pulled a piece of lint from his curls. He jerked his head.

"I'm not gonna bite you! I'll tell you what you were thinking, you were thinking of finding another way to do yourself in."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were. I heard you mumbling."

"And if I was? So what? What does it have to do with you? Thinking and doing are two different things."

"Thoughts lead to actions. And it has nothing to do with me, but I made a vow to myself a minute ago. You are not getting off this train until you promise me you won't hurt yourself."

Ricky actually laughed aloud. "Are you for real? You know, I think you're a little nuts, maybe that boyfriend of yours hit you too hard."

The girl's expression saddened and she casually punched him. "That's not funny! I know why you don't want me to sit next to you; you don't want all these people to think you beat me up. You look like you would smack me around with that smelly green jacket and those heavy metal combat boots!"

Ricky's embarrassment flared as her voice raised. "This is my style, it doesn't make me an abuser."

How tall are you anyway?" She calmed down.

Ricky patted the top of his head. "Around 6'3…but I think I have another inch to go."

"Wow, you're huge! That's way cool, I bet nobody messes with you." She said coyly. "Height makes might."

Ricky looked down miserable. Two days ago Moody's bullies messed with him in front of all his peers…and he just let it happen.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Seriously, you have a bunny face, but I bet you can kick major butt."

Ricky threw up his hand. "Alright already! I don't like getting into fights, even if I look like I do it for a living. I'm not as badass as everyone thinks…or wants me to be!"

"Who wants you to fight?"

"Everyone at school. It's a long story, just drop it."

Ricky's eyes averted toward the window at the elevated tracks and he observed the flashing street and house lights zoom past. 'Maybe if I ignore her she'll go away.' He decided. However, now he wasn't so sure he wanted her to leave.

Two minutes of silence passed between them, he watched from the corner of his eye as she dug into her red purse and rummaged for a small mirror and face powder. She tried her best to conceal her bruises. Her nose stopped bleeding, but swelled up pink. He felt bad for laughing. If the guy who did this to her was on the train now, Ricky would have broken his nose. She was too interesting and pretty to be treated like that. That wasn't a nice thought either; no woman should be treated so cruelly. He tapped his fingers on the sill and continued to mull over his failings.

"Why don't you dunk your head in a tubful of water and stick your finger in a socket. That aught to work. Toss a blow dryer in for good measure. You're so intent on killing yourself even though it won't change a darn thing, you still did what you did." She said coolly.

"Great idea! Should I use hot or cold water?" He retorted.

The girl exhaled disappointed. She grasped his arm until he looked her way angry.

"Now what? You're very pushy."

"You're impossible! I guess the whole world revolves only around you, huh?" She waved her arm and pointed out the few passengers sitting at the other side.

"Look at all these people closely. That woman reading Harlequin in the corner has a career. I bet she has kids too, but her boss asked her to stay late and she's all grumpy because she wasn't home to cook them dinner or help with the homework and tuck them to bed. That brother with the little 'fro is grooving to his boom box, he's having a great old time listening to Kool and the gang. The way he's bopping he might be composing his own song, but he hasn't been discovered yet. That beefy guy next to him in the dusty uniform? See how he's turning his ring with a smile? Yeah, the music pees him off, but all he can think about is going home and cuddling up with his beautiful wife of fifteen years. And why not? He's a construction worker, he put in a real hard day's work making sure we have roofs over our heads."

Ricky forced his gaze on everyone. He could imagine the exact scenarios. He looked away moodily.

"So. What's that gotta do with what happened to me?"

"A lot! I bet I know what you do. You stomp through the city and look at everyone who's even remotely happy or secure and think, how could they? How could they just carry on while I'm suffering? You're drowning in your own ego!"

Ricky held his cheek. "Aren't we observant? Can I see your shrink license? What do you know about it?"

"I'm not a scholar, but I know how to read people."

Everything she told him dug under his skin and made sense, just like Clifford's words earlier. He lowered his eyes and his mouth drooped sadly.

"Alright…I get you, now please, I just wanna be alone."

The girl surprised him and stood up from the seat. She adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder and smiled. He noticed that she did it despite the pain it caused her face, and he was instantly attracted. Her wide-mouthed smile bared a lot of decently straight and white teeth. She leaned toward him and patted his shoulder.

"Okay Greta Garbo, I'm leaving now. I'm not completely convinced that you won't try anything stupid…but I know I did my part as a caring fellow human."

The girl shrugged and walked ahead a few steps. The train suddenly lurched back with a deafening squeal. Ricky dove to the side and made a grab for her before she was thrown down face-forward. Everyone stumbled frontward from the instant break and the lights flickered off and plunged them into darkness.