OH MY GOD, I AM SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG TO UPLOAD! All of my reviewers, please don't abandon this story, your reviews make my day! OK then, here we go.

CHAPTER 7: A LOONY'S SON AND A FREAK OF NATURE

I stepped into Quidicello's with all of our money pooled together in my pocket. Mr. Quidicello was standing at the counter weighing hamburger meat. I grabbed some Coke off of the shelves, as well as some smore fixings, before stepping up to order some hamburger meat.

Mr. Quidicello looked up at me. "Hey, aren't you Joey Randall?" he asked with a bit of amazement in his voice.

I nodded. "Yup."

Mr. Quidicello grinned. "I saw you catch that fly ball in the Little League game on Sunday. Don't know what those boys would do without you."

I laughed. "Thanks, Mr. Quidicello."Then, out of nowhere, Gordie stepped into the store. "What the hell are you doing in here, Gordie?"

Gordie shrugged. "The guys wanted me to make sure nothing happened to you." He waggled his eyebrows. "Chris most of all."

I growled and walked away, mumbling, over to the magazine rack. As I watched Gordie buy hamburger meat from Mr. Quidicello, I browsed through the magazine covers. Everywhere, I saw them: images of the girl every mother wanted… or at least, my mother wanted. They had big eyes, ruby red lips, perfectly coifed hair, and probably couldn't throw a fastball a foot even if they tried. I scoffed and grabbed one off the rack anyway; it'd be good for the boys, plus give me hours of entertainment as I laughed at how ridiculous they made the girls.

I heard Mr. Quidicello saying something: "I remember when your brother played pro ball. Man, could he throw. Father, God and Sonny Jesus."

Oh no. I knew Gordie hated it whenever someone brought up his brother. I walked over and took his hand. "I've got all the money, Gordo. I'll pay," I told him gently.

Gordie nodded, and walked over to the door. I paid Mr. Quidicello, and the two of us walked out of the store. We walked through the junkyard… but we couldn't find the boys anywhere. "HEY! WHAT'RE YOU KIDS DOING IN HERE?" we heard the voice of Milo Pressman scream. Gordie and I looked at each other. "Oh, shit," we said at the same time, and sprang into a run. Up ahead, we saw the boys leaning against the fence, screaming for us. Chris, I could see, was especially worried.

And then… "CHOPPER, SIC 'EM! SIC 'EM, BOY!"

Now, as I said before, I wasn't too worried about Chopper; I, after all, had no balls for him to sic. But I kept running like the wind just the same. I finally reached the fence, and I climbed over. Chris took my face in his hands. "Johanna," he said, paranoid, "are you alright?" I could really tell he was worried, because he used my full name.

"I'm fine, Chris, I'm okay," I breathed. Then, I remembered: "GORDIE! KEEP RUNNING, MAN!"

Gordie told me years later that he knew that Milo had said, "Sic 'em, boy," but what he had heard was, "Chopper, sic balls." Gordie finally reached us, screaming like a banshee, and vaulted over the fence. When the dust finally cleared, we saw the legendary Chopper in the flesh. He was a terrifying, vicious… golden retriever.

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. "I was such a pussy!" I remarked as I approached the dog. I had always really liked animals, especially dogs. "Hey there, Choppy," I whispered as I let him lick the tips of my fingers.

Of course, the boys couldn't be as gentle with little Chopper as I was, and they all immediately began taunting him "Hey, kiss my ass, Choppy! Kiss my ass! Bite shit!" Teddy screamed in delight as he shook his butt in Chopper's face.

"HEY, YOU KIDS!" Milo yelled as he ran over to us. "Stop teasing that dog, you hear me?"

"Hey, shut up, man," Teddy laughed.

"Dear God, here we go," I murmured to Chris, and he stifled a laugh.

"Don't you talk back to me, you little tin weasel. Peckerwood loony's son!"

We all froze. Oh, he did not just say that. Teddy went from laughing hysterically, to just becoming a stone mask. "What did you call me?" Teddy whispered.

Milo said smugly, "I know who you are. You're Teddy Duchamp; your father's a loony up in the nuthouse in Togus. He held your ear to a stove and burnt it off!"

"My father stormed the beach at Normandy," Teddy said numbly.

"He's crazier than a shithouse rat!" Milo yelled.

"You call my dad a loony one more time, and I'll kill you," Teddy warned, his hands clenching into fists.

"Loony, loony, loony…" Milo said in a sing-song way.

That did it. Teddy screamed and leapt onto the fence. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU! I'M GONNA RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND SHIT DOWN YOUR NECK!" he was screaming as Chris and Gordie yanked him down.

Milo shook his head. "Bring him back! Let the kid fight his own battles!"

Gordie scoffed, "Sure, you only outweigh him by 200 pounds, FATASS!"

Milo pointed at Gordie. "I know you: you're LaChance! I know all of you guys!" His eyes then fell on me. "And you… ought to be ashamed of yourself, young lady."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked angrily.

"You know damn well what it's supposed to mean! You're never hanging out with girls. Always running around with boys, playing baseball." He grinned evilly. "It's obvious why your mother left; she didn't want a freak of nature for a daughter."

Now, keep in mind, I was well known and liked by boys all around the town. It had never occurred to me that I had absolutely no girl friends, or had since I moved to Castle Rock. So, maybe the Press Man did not quite understand: I couldn't stand girls.

"What the hell are you talking about, fatass?" I asked Milo as I got ready to scale the fence to pound the crap out of him.

"You heard me. Maybe it's not that you don't like hanging out with other girls; maybe the mothers keep their daughters away from you." He then leaned close enough to my face that I could smell the alcohol practically sweating off of him. "If you like boys so much, you think you might be a slut?"

I then pulled a Teddy. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" I was screaming as I almost leapt over the fence.

Chris, once again, yanked me off of the fence. "Why don't you just leave us and go play with your dog?" Chris yelled at him.

Milo shook his head. "All of your fathers are going to be getting calls from me!" he yelled at us. He then brought his face dangerously close to Teddy's and whispered, "Except for the loony up in Togus."

Once again, Teddy screamed bloody murder, but Chris dragged him away before anything happened. Teddy was still screaming, "MY FATHER STORMED THE BEACH AT NORMANDY! HE STORMED A BEACH, YOU F*****!"

I didn't know about Teddy over there, but I was pretty shaken from Pressman calling me a slut. I mean, I know what you're thinking: why should I care what a fatass hobbit thinks about me? To be honest, I really didn't know why I cared. Anyway, as we walked away from the junkyard, at least I wasn't a weeping mess like Teddy was.

"Teddy, shhh, hush. It'll be okay," I soothed him as I helped Chris comfort him. One of Chris's other perfect attributes: he was a pillar of support in times of crisis.

Teddy cried, "He ranked my old man… he ranked my old man," over and over again. That poor boy, I felt so sorry for him.

Chris looked up from comforting Teddy and focused on me, with his blue-grey eyes awash in concern. "Joey, you alright?"

What I wanted to happen: I burst into tears, and Chris wrapped his arms around me, kissed me, and told me he didn't care what other people thought, that I was his girl, and nothing could ever change the way he loved me.

What really happened: I shook my head. "I'm fine, Chris, really." Chris apparently didn't hear me, let go of Teddy for a moment and hugged me. "We all still love you, Joe. You have to know that," he whispered in my ear.

"Oh, Chris, you don't get it," I thought to myself. "I know they love me, and I know you love me… but are you IN love with me?"